Harry Potter and the Oriental Philosophy
by Fiori75
Summary: Martial Arts. Two words that mean so many things, but above all it is the drive to better ones self, physically and spiritually, it is an ever distant journey to perfection. What would happen when a small green eyed child with a destiny far greater than even he knew enters this seen yet unseen world? Adventure, magic, love? And it's all due his cousin's past as a spoiled brat.
1. A New Beginning

Harry Potter and the Oriental Philosophy

_Based on the concept by Tellemicus Sundance_

Chapter one: A New Beginning

_"It is the duty of the strong to protect the weak"_- Code of the martial artist.

It had been six months since they had started. Six months since Dudley had kicked and screamed to have his way into it. Six months since Harry had been forced to come along as 'emotional support'. And six months since both boys had fallen in love with the martial arts.

When he looked back on it, Harry really had no idea what it was that had sparked his cousin's sudden fascination with Kung Fu. Perhaps it was the new Jackie Chan movie that had come out, or maybe it was that strange cartoon show about the boy who turned into a girl. Either way, his cousin had seen it and wanted to know how to beat people up like they do in the movies.

At first, Vernon and Petunia were completely against the idea. Both of them couldn't even bear the thought of putting their precious child in harm's way. Yet Dudley had been persistent in his whining and within two days both Harry's aunt and uncle caved to their child's demands. At first Harry had feared that his cousin would come home with and immediately be able to mimic the moves he'd talked about the heroes in movies doing. Yet when he came home that first night, quite sore, lightly bruised, and upset, Harry knew that it would be a long time before his cousin ever would be able to do anything like that.

Yet imagine Harry's surprise when two days later he had to attend the classes with Dudley. It confused Harry of course, since his relatives never did anything nice for him. But the sight of a sign saying something about discounts for two students under the same payroll told him part of it. His first sparring match with Dudley told him the rest. Apparently his cousin now had free reign to attack Harry with no real consequences. Plus he always seemed to be able to beat Harry in the end. In the first five lessons Harry received seven defeats at his cousin's hand in the sparring ring.

But after the first few months of practice, with lessons every other weekday and on Saturday, Harry began to slowly improve. He was 'gifted' his teacher or 'sensei' had said; gifted at picking up the martial skills of unarmed combat with relative ease. This praise had tremendously bolstered the young seven-year-old into putting much more effort into his lessons. This caused him to slowly increase his skills at martial arts.

But it was not just Harry who grew by leaps and bounds. His cousin seemed to be surprisingly gifted at the arts as well. He was always pushing beyond his limits to match Harry's growing skill. This, in turn, pushed Harry to grow stronger and train that much harder out of class, and thus the cycle repeated. Some would call it a healthy rivalry. Others would say that they were almost obsessed with outdoing the other. However, no one could deny that their rivalry wasn't good for the boys.

Besides just their improvements skill wise, both boys had begun to slowly grow healthier. Dudley, who had always been a chubby child on the verge of being called fat, could hardly be called that now. Although he was far from being skinny and would always be a little bit burly, Dudley was now on his way to becoming one of the fittest kids in their grade. Harry, too, had become more fit, but while Dudley had slowly started to thin out, Harry had started to bulk up and put on a healthy amount of weight. But it was not just physical changes that occurred in Harry. There was another aspect that was slowly awakening. Harry had always been at the center of several odd occurrences, whether it was fast growing hair or disappearing acts. Strange things had always happened around him. With him starting martial arts, the number of strange occurrences only seemed to grow more frequent. Yet like many children he simply wrote it off as the world being filled with unanswerable questions.

However, all this only serves as a side note or back-story to the events that would change the world in ways that couldn't be imagined.

333

Harry and Dudley stood gazing at one another, waiting for the okay to begin the fight. Both were dressed in white training gear with a pair of silver and obsidian serpent-like dragons circling each other embroidered over the heart and a larger version on their backs. Both had a blue belt wrapped around their waists. Unlike Dudley however, Harry had a cloth headband with the same symbol on it wrapped around his head to keep his wild hair out of his eyes. Around the two boys was a circle of older men dressed in much the same manner as them with the variation being that several of them had different colored belts. One of these older men wearing a black belt stood between the two of them looking between them with both a combination of anticipation and worry.

"Okay you two, this match is going to be used to decide which of you advances in level, so do your best. But do not over do it again," he instructed as he looked between the two cousins.

"Whatever you say, sensei," Dudley answered with fake sincerity, as he took a ready combat stance.

"No promises," Harry honestly answered as he mimicked his cousin. Both stood at the ready while their sensei looked between them before sighing.

"Begin!" He finally shouted as he jumped back out of the way.

Both boys took off like rockets at each other and met in the middle. Harry threw a left straight, right as his cousin threw a right hook. It took a split second for both of them to correct themselves and avoid the other's blows. Jumping apart lightly, both looked at each other for a second before again rushing each other once again.

Harry tried another left straight, which his cousin easily blocked. But he quickly followed it up with a quick roundhouse kick to Dudley's chest. His cousin caught his leg, however. With his greater strength and weight, he was able to shift himself and toss his cousin behind him. While Harry was still recovering, Dudley charged forward to press his advantage. Harry barely had any time to recover before he was set upon by the overwhelming weight of his cousin's blows. Each blow was heavy enough that it would leave a bruise as he feebly tried to block the attacks. If not for the fact that Harry had always been the faster of the two, Harry would have been beaten down immediately.

As it was, Harry was able to get away long enough to gain his second wind before charging forward again. This time he was more cautious of his cousin and his greater physical strength. He had to dance around his cousin and tried to attack from the sides with kicks. But still the attacks were only superficial at best. His cousin would always be larger than him, and this gave him a far greater ability to ignore pain. But Harry was no slouch himself when it came to dealing with pain.

Thus it went, dancing around the other, attacking and defending and seemingly neither being able to gain the upper hand. Their match was now a battle of attrition, a battle that Dudley knew he would ultimately lose. Harry had always seemed to possess some strangely high abundance of energy, and it would be this energy that would allow his cousin to win their match. Quickly he dodged under a punch from his cousin and made for a blow to Harry's chest.

Seeing the attack, Harry twisted around the blow. The sudden twist helped him added momentum as he sent a quick kick to his Dudley's ribs. His cousin was knocked back by the force of the blow and dropped to his knees. Seeing a chance to end the fight, Harry moved in for the finishing blow.

Dudley looked up in time to see Harry moving in for the finish. He knew that he couldn't move fast enough to avoid the attack. He could block it though. But from his position, blocking it could've given Harry an even more advantageous opening. There was only one move that Dudley could make. When one can't block or dodge; attack.

Dudley only had one shot and his aim had to be good enough to catch Harry's fist before he was hit. Sure, the recoil would be painful, but he had a higher endurance than his cousin. The recoil would be enough that his cousin would back off and leave him an opening, which he could use to turn the entire fight around!

It was with no small deal of shock that Harry saw his cousin's fist lash out to intercept his own. But the initial shock quickly turned into dread. Like his cousin, Harry knew what would happen when the two fists collided and he really did not want that to happen. Not only would it hurt, but also it had the chance to turn the entire fight around.

In the six months they had trained together, Harry had learned that he really didn't like losing to his cousin. Before it had been something he had no control over. Now however it felt as though he was the master of his own destiny. If only in this instance here he could dictate how things could end. And they did not have to end with him losing. Yet it was too late for him to abort the attack, already his momentum and weight were behind it. At best this attack would cause his hand and wrist to sprain, at worst they would crack. Harry could only imagine what things could be if his hand was as hard as or harder than his cousin's.

Little did Harry know that his desire to win was having a major effect on the wild energies within him. Inside of him, his power was awakening to the mind's desire to win, as well as the thought process that could allow for Harry to win. Without consciously being aware of it, Harry's magic hardened the skin and bone of his right fist just before his fist and his cousin's came into contact. This had the nice effect of causing Dudley's fist to compress when it hit Harry's.

Dudley tried to scream in pain as the bones in his hand broke like twigs. Of course the scream came much too late to stop Harry from launching a follow up attack. Inspired by the recent turn of luck, Harry lashed out with a left hook that took Dudley completely by surprise. The fist met Dudley's temple and silenced the scream that he had just started to utter. Dudley was knocked out cold before he even had a chance to really understand what had happened to his fist.

"That's enough!" the instructor shouted just as Harry's fist hit his cousin. Of course it was too late to actually stop anything from happening, but he had to snap the boys out of it before things escalated further. It did happily have the effect of bringing Harry down from the battle high that he and his cousin readily experienced whenever they fought. It was very surprising how often they went overboard on one another, exactly like the grudge match's between two rivals.

Harry paused to catch his breath as he stood over his cousin's unconscious form. He couldn't quite understand exactly what had happened but he knew that it wasn't good. Sure, he and Dudley always went a little overboard, but it had never resulted in a knockout before. As he looked up with remorse, he caught the rage-filled eyes of the only person who could make this situation even worse.

A very puce Vernon Dursley stood at the doors of the dojo, looking directly at Harry.

333

"You rutty little bastard!" Vernon screamed at Harry as the small boy leapt away from his enraged uncle.

It had been three hours since Harry's uncle, Vernon, had come to pick the boys up from the class, only to witness the 'savage beating' of his firstborn child. Naturally he had grabbed Harry and lifted his son's unconscious figure from the floor before rushing to the nearest hospital. There they had found out that not only did Dudley have a minor concussion, but also the bones of his hand had fractured in seven places. Not to mention the recoil had also ripped two tendons at his elbow. In the end, Vernon had to leave his son at the hospital for observation before driving home with Harry.

The entire drive had given new meaning to the sentence 'silent as the grave.' But as soon as they had entered the house, Vernon had taken a swing at Harry. The blow had sent the young child sprawling since he caught him by the sheer surprise of it. In the very instant before he could recover, his uncle was on him, swinging huge meaty fists at the small child in a vicious rage.

"You little freak, how dare you hurt my son!" His uncle continued to yell as he lashed out at Harry.

"I didn't mean to!" Harry tried to defend himself. He was quickly being backed into a corner by his uncle's enormous stature and strength. While the man may have been obese, he did know how to throw his weight into his punches. Harry was sure that he already had a concussion to match his cousin's, not to mention several broken ribs and his right arm was hurting really badly.

"'Didn't mean too'! You didn't mean to send my boy to the hospital!" Vernon yelled.

Luckily for Harry, this momentary pause allowed the small boy to slip around his uncle and back into a more open space. Vernon saw his nephew moving into a larger space and reached for his son's cricket-bat that had been left on the sofa. He had seen Harry in several spars and knew that he was a fast and slippery little thing. The extra reach and strength of a weapon could only help in reprimanding the little bastard for hurting his child.

With a savagery that one could not have guessed he possessed, Vernon swung the cricket-bat at Harry's legs. He was trying to disable the young child from moving even further. Thankfully Harry was quick enough to dodge the swing. However, weakened as he was, he ended up stumbling as he backpedaled away from his crazed uncle. He fell onto his backside as his uncle loomed over him. Rage and perhaps a little insanity were clearly visible in his uncle's eyes as he raised his arm to swing again.

Desperately, Harry wished he could get out of the way and like before his magic reacted. However, unlike what happened in his spar with Dudley, Harry noticed the magic going to work this time. He felt it move him away from his uncle. With a soft bang, Harry was once again behind his enraged uncle. Swinging wildly, his uncle turned on him with the anger still glittering in his eye, but now it held more to it. Harry saw fear within his uncle's eye.

"You little bastard, I knew we should never have taken you in!" His uncle breathed as he glared at Harry before he once again move to attack. This time however Harry frantically concentrated on the same feelings he had had when he first vanished. He could somehow feel the strange energy spread from his stomach throughout his body in an instant.

As he teleported away from his uncle, he could only feel the comforting warmth his power brought to him as he reappeared outside in the yard to #4 Privet Drive. Still kind of dazed from the head blow, Harry looked both left and right uncomprehendingly for a moment before taking off towards London.

All the while he could hear his uncle screaming after him. "Don't you ever come back here you freak! This isn't your home any longer! You hear me; this is not your home!"

333

It had been a long week since Harry had been chased away from the Dursley household. A week filled with new discoveries and of ever growing dread. On the first night away from Privet Drive Harry had curled up painfully on a park-bench using newspapers in place of a blanket. As he slowly drifted off, he could almost feel that strange power within himself begin to rise up inside him and start acting on its own. In less than an hour after he'd fallen asleep, Harry's ribs had snapped back into place. It wasn't a particularly pleasant experience either, his chest had felt unbearably painful when he'd woken up the next morning. But in the end it was the best thing that could have happened for him. The rapid healing took care of any potential problems he might have had in the next few months he was on his own.

That morning, he set out early, looking for someplace warm and somewhat safe to curl up at night. Food was only his second priority since he was used to going with very little.

Along the way, he started to practice achieving that strange feeling he had that had allowed him to teleport. It took him almost the entire day as he traveled through back allies to avoid attention, but eventually he managed to make some small headway into it. Though he had not managed to reproduce that form of instant movement, he had been able to faintly feel that power once again. But though he had felt his power, it was only after he grew incredibly frustrated that the power had even made itself known. Several times throughout the week afterwards he had managed to summon up the odd feeling of that power and once, five days into the his practicing, he had been able to actually teleport. Strangely, the act itself left him feeling somehow drained; as opposed to the near ease he had used it when he was escaping from his uncle. But for each time he managed to summon up his strange power, the next time he attempted it became just a little bit easier.

However, Harry's real concern was not to learn mastery over this power. It was to find shelter, preferably a place he could stay for free, but as there were very few places like that in Little Whining. So Harry had to move deeper into London proper to find shelter. Once in London, it took him another two days before he finally found a place where he could stay. Add on to that that it was completely by chance that he found it when he did.

Harry had been running desperately through the wet streets of London, though not for his life. Behind him was a tall man who could only have been a police officer. He was calling out to Harry get him to slow down, telling him that he only wanted to talk. Harry had just kept running. He feared that if the officer caught him, he would be sent to an orphanage. From the horror stories that his uncle had told, he had assumed that it would be far worse than his treatment by the Dursley's.

Ignoring the pleas from the man behind him, Harry kept running. He was actually happy for once about being so small for his age, it allowed him to dodge around the other people ahead of him as he rushed through the busy London streets. Soon, though, Harry came upon a wrought iron gate with a low brick wall to either side of it. Behind the gate was a small sea of green trees and an asphalt walkway that branched off into dirt path ways through the trees.

Quickly moving past several people, Harry made his way into the park and immediately rushed for the brush. He knew from past experience that those who were bigger than him did not like chasing him through small spaces. Thus, as he continued to weave through the bushes and past the trees, the sounds of the police officer grew fainter and fainter. Soon all Harry could here was the soft pounding of his own feet and his gasping breath.

Pausing the young boy plopped himself down next to one of the numerous trees around him. He simply sat there trying to recover from the exertion he had just put on his leg muscles. But it was as he was resting that the sounds of pursuit once again began to draw closer. The sound of brush moving and twigs snapping quickly sent Harry back to high alert as he climbed back to his feet.

It was as he was turning to run that his foot got caught in a small sinkhole. The underground void had been further weakened by the recent influx of rain. Add onto that the weight and force of a running child. The hole instantly collapsed in on itself, taking Harry with following the mounds of dirt and grass. This had the strange benefit of quickly hiding his presence from the police officer, but the sensation of falling into the dirt was not a pleasant one for Harry. He almost thought he was going to end up suffocating until the earth deposited him rather roughly onto a mound of muddy dirt and sent him rolling onto a hard stone floor.

As Harry regained his bearings, he instantly noticed how utterly dark it was wherever he had landed. Slowly he began to stand and feel his way around his new environment hoping to find some sort of power. After what felt like forever, the young child was able to find a box with a lever built into it on the cave wall. After throwing the switch Harry got his first look on where he had fallen.

It looked like a public bomb shelter, probably built during WWII. From the looks of things, Harry had to assume that it had been abandoned long ago. He could see that it was equipped with many cots built into the walls. There were also two sets of stairs on one side of the bunker, one set leading down into another level, which had a few more beds and a few lockers. The other stairs lead upwards. Harry had to assume that they would eventually be his way back into the park.

Yet at that moment Harry had no real intention to leave. The bunker in which he found himself would be perfect for him. It was spacious enough that he could practice. It had enough blankets lying around that he'd be warm at night. And best of all: no Aunt petunia or Uncle Vernon.

Now all he needed was some food.

333

The house seemed emptier than Dudley ever truly remembered it being. Dudley had often thought about what life would be like if his cousin was to just disappear. He'd imagined that both he and his parents would become far happier and things would become ten times better. There would be more toys for him, and twice as much food.

Yet now that Harry was actually gone, all Dudley could do was wish he would come back. Their time spent in the martial arts class together had helped strengthen a bond between them that Dudley never even knew existed. They were rivals, pure and simple. Night and day, yin and yang, and all other things one could imagine calling them. Dudley felt that the lack of Harry made things seem wrong somehow. There was no longer any balance. Yet what made it worse was that he had disappeared as the victor. Fifty-one total fights between them; twenty-five victories in Dudley's favor and twenty-six for Harry.

Harry had won. To make things worse, he'd won and now Dudley couldn't even challenge him to a rematch. All because his dad overreacted. So Harry had somehow managed to badly injure Dudley's arm and knock him out, so what! That was part of training and martial arts fighting. The fact that his dad didn't seem to understand this concept, as well as Dudley's injured pride, is what had really made him mad. His pride as a fighter demanded him to find Harry and challenge him again. And his parents expected him to be happy that Harry was just suddenly gone! Happiness was the furthest thing from what he was actually feeling. He felt enraged and hurt, and above all he felt betrayed.

He knew none of the fault truly lay with Harry; no child would willingly leave to live on the streets unless faced with no other options. Yet there was a small part of him that couldn't help but think that Harry had abandoned him, abandoned their rivalry. And that hurt him more than anything else: to think that Harry would leave him without a reassurance for another challenge.

And without that reassurance that they would meet again, almost everything else seemed to lose its meaning, even his martial arts.

333

After several hours of exploration, Harry started to feel comfortable in his new home. The cots were no less uncomfortable than the one he had become used to at the Dursley's. There were many blankets left over from when the shelter was still active, though a few of them were covered with mold. Really, Harry could only find two problems with his new dwellings. First was that it had a rather large infestation of rats that had since made the abandoned shelter their haven, much the same as Harry was doing now. The second and most important was that while he did now have shelter, he needed food.

As the abandoned shelter had nothing left in the way of preserved rations that the rats hadn't already gotten into, Harry was forced to seek food elsewhere. Taking the stairs up from the shelter, Harry found himself in a small concrete room with a locked iron fence blocking his path. Though it may have stopped most others from exiting or entering the now abandoned shelter, Harry's small frame allowed for easy access through the bars.

Upon entering the sunlight once more, Harry moved quickly and silently from the small hovel built into the park. Hopefully finding food would be easy, but Harry had the sneaking suspicion that it wouldn't be simple. Mostly this had to do with the fact that he had no real way to pay for any food that he might find. He could always hope that someone would just take pity on him.

But Harry's thoughts were interrupted however when a quite pleasing aroma reached his nose. Following it to the source, Harry saw a large slightly chubby man standing along a concrete path tending a hotdog stand. With food now in his sights, Harry now had to face a new own inner dilemma. He could ask the man for a hotdog as he had contemplated earlier. Yet he suspected that the man would immediately turn him down. After all, as a small child, Harry would surely have relatives nearby that could pay for it.

His other option of course was he could simply take one. Truthfully it would be relatively simple for him to get one without being noticed. He'd always been good at remaining quiet and moving silently. Even if he was seen, he was fairly confident in his ability to outrun the larger man. After all he was of a heavier build and that would definitely slow him down. Plus there was the fact that he probably couldn't leave the hotdog cart untended for too long. It would be simple for Harry to escape with at least one.

_'The man probably had dozens of hotdogs,'_ Harry tried rationalizing to himself. _'What's one missing going to hurt?'_

Harry was on the very verge of just running forward to grab a hotdog, when suddenly there came a loud feminine shout. "Leave me alone!"

The voice sounded relatively young. Harry followed the source of the noise to a young girl who was maybe five or six years his senior. She was dressed boyishly with blue jeans and a yellow shirt. Her hair was a brilliant hot pink and cut short. But it was the cause of her screams that had drawn most of Harry's attention. Five teenagers had surrounded and started circling her, almost as if they were sharks. Harry watched as they taunted and jeered at her, clearly enjoying her fear. Turning back to the man tending the hotdog stand, Harry was even more horrified to see that he was walking away.

"Aren't you going to do something?" Harry called after the man incredulously.

"It isn't my problem, kid," the man said as he continued to walk away.

Harry looked back at the scene and could only glare as one of the boys grabbed the small girl by the arm and started to pull, all the while the punk was wearing a manic smile. What made the scene all the more disturbing were the tears of fear starting to fall down the young girl's face. These tears easily told all who were watching that this was not a game to her. It was as Harry looked back once more to the supposedly responsible adult that he made his choice. Swallowing his fears forcefully, he sprinted forward towards the teen that had taken hold of the girl. With as much strength as he could gather, he jumped at the older boy and delivered a hard right hook to his face.

The older teen fell to the ground hard, causing him to reflexively release his grip on the girl's arm. The other teens, as well as the girl could only look at Harry in shock for a moment as he stood over the downed teen. Harry quickly turned to the rest of the boys, his eyes hard.

"Leave her alone," he said as coldly as he could possibly manage.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, kid? We were only playing," one of the teens demanded angrily.

"Doesn't look like she was having fun," Harry answered as he took a quick moment to glance at the girl he had just freed. But it was as he looked away that the others pounced. Using his moment of distraction, one of the teens cuffed his jaw with a wicked left hook, sending him reeling backwards. Seeing the situation return quickly to their favor, the other boys rushed to attack Harry with as much force as they could muster.

Harry quickly saw himself loosing any and all chance of actually escaping without sustaining further harm. Quickly he rolled to his knees as one of the teens brought his foot down for a stomp. Moving as quickly as he was able, Harry kicked out with his right foot, tripping his attacker and sending him to the ground. Just as Harry was about to deliver a sharp kick to the boy's chest, he was forced to move back as one of the other four teens lashed out with a quick jab. Ducking under and into the punch, Harry quickly brought himself into the teens guard before delivering a quick jab to the older boys stomach.

Considering that Harry was at least half their age, the punch did not do much true damage. But it was not by pure luck that Harry managed to drive the wind from the teen's lungs. Since the start when Harry had attacked their leader he had been aiming for the soft spots, knowing that they would mean the difference between hurting his opponents, and hurting himself. Though it was a short-lived victory, as Harry reared back his leg to attack the teen's soft tissue, he found his other leg being pulled out from under him by the teen he knocked over earlier.

"You little bastard, what the hell are you trying to prove?" The teen asked angrily as he began to stand, all the while he put more pressure on Harry's tiny leg.

Harry hissed in pain as the pressure of the teens grip increased. Yet the young martial artist did not begin to weep, as he once would have. Instead he swallowed the scream, and muscled past the pain. The teen holding onto his right leg soon learned that he should have paid more attention and grabbed the other leg in the boy's moment of surprise and pain. With the tell tale crunch of a breaking nose Harry was once more deposited roughly onto the ground. Once more he was quick to scramble out of the way as the other teens began to attack.

This time however with pain lacing through his leg, Harry found himself moving slower than he once had. Thus he was ill equipped to dodge a devastating upper cut from one of the boys. Reeling from the blow Harry began to back away from the clearly angry teens. He could see now that they were ready to actually take him seriously. Nervously he glanced toward the place he had last seen the girl, hoping she had been smart and run off to get help, instead he saw her still form exactly were she had been before. With a silent curse he had once over heard from his uncle, Harry once more moved into the fight.

The girl could only watch helplessly as her savior was mobbed by the teens. But through it all, his eyes still remained hard and strong as he stood his ground. She wished there was something she could do to help the raven-haired child, not without getting in trouble herself. And yet she was strangely fascinated by the small child's courage. Even as the much larger boys bore down on him with enough force to harm any other child his age, the mystery boy did not falter, he did not run, and he didn't back down. She could only stand and numbly watch as he continued trying to fight back, doing his best to match the older boys blow for blow. Yet she could clearly see that they held the advantage. They were larger and had more muscle to bring down on the small child. Even with all his apparent skill, there was next to no way for him to win.

"Leave him alone, he's just a child!" she finally screamed as Harry was hit particularly viciously in the face, knocking several teeth clean out.

"This little shit has got to learn to not mess with his elders," One of them snapped in reply as he turned his attention towards her. He learned quickly how big a mistake it was to look away when a small foot suddenly made contact between his legs. As he fell to his knees, the punk was further injured when Harry brought his fist down on his temple.

"What are you still doing here, run!" Harry shouted to the girl in frustration. He knew that he could have escaped their barrage and avoided many of his current injuries. But because the girl had yet to make her own escape, he could not in good conscious leave while she remained. Who knows what could have happened if he didn't stick around!

Charging past and around the angered teens Harry made his way to the girl. Upon reaching her he placed his hands under her left arm and hauled with all his strength, pulling her from her kneeling position on the ground. She could only gasp as he glared into her eyes, his emerald orbs set in a glare.

"Just run, I'll be fine!" He shouted before turning back to the three teens.

Yet again he charged at them to buy the girl time. Harry ducked underneath a punch from one of the teens before lashing out with both fists, hitting the teen solidly in the chest. As the teen gasped and held his stomach Harry prepared to try and take another one of them out of the fight. Yet this teen seemed to be just as stubborn as he was. Before Harry could cock his arm back for a blow to the temple the teen before him lunged forward hitting Harry in the chest with his head forcing him back.

Harry was then sent reeling forward again as one of the other teens punched him savagely in the back. Rolling forward Harry was able to come to his knees just in time to jump back as the third teen sent a hook towards his face. Glaring at the older boy Harry moved forward yet again. He dodged under another punch and tried to deliver one of his own, but before his blow could connect the teen backed away from him. Moving quickly after the dodge, the teen then grabbed Harry's still extended arm and began to squeeze. Harry seeing this did the first thing that came to mind. He leaned forward and bit into the teen's hand. Despite loosing one of his canines and a few molars, Harry still had enough of his teeth for the bite to be particularly painful. Screaming the teen released his arm and kicked at Harry, causing him to do even more damage to the skin of his opponent.

"What is this, you think you're some kind of hero, kid?" one of the teens asked angrily as he landed another a blow on Harry.

Harry ignored the question and once more cast his eyes at the girl, who still she had not run. He dodged past one blow, only to be hit by another, knocking slightly off balance for a second. He wondered briefly what it would take to finally get her to run. As quickly as he could manage, he returned to his feet and attempted yet another attack. But by now however the teens had learned that it didn't pay to underestimate him. His blows could be quite painful if they landed. Instead they started dancing around him, using his small arms and size to their own advantage. They didn't let him close enough to hit back, but never far away enough for him to run. For what seemed like forever, Harry tried his very hardest to fend them off, hoping the pink haired girl would just run away. But she remained where she stood, paralyzed at the sight of the teens attacking him.

Finally however one of them landed a blow strong enough to push the wind from his lungs, causing him to keel over onto the ground clutching his chest. The attack was quickly followed by someone's boot hitting him quite painfully in the ribs. Helplessly, the young martial artist was sent sprawling onto the ground. As he looked with half lidded eyes as his attackers bore down upon his immobile form. Once again he felt his inner power react to his frantic needs; he suddenly disappeared from sight only to reappear next to the older girl.

"Oh god," the girl whispered, knowing full well the ramifications of the boy's actions, accidental or otherwise.

"What the fuck?" one of the thugs gasped as Harry slumped down next to the girl.

"Did he just teleport or something?" another asked in shock.

"What the hell is he?" asked another.

"What should we do, should we call 999, tell them we saw a mutant or whatever the hell this kid is?" another asked.

When the boy who said that began to look towards a pair of phone booths, the girl decided then and there to risk expulsion for the greater good. After all things would be far more complicated if the ministry had to fix the memories of the police as well as the three still conscious teens. With all the resolve she could muster she pulled her wand from her pocket and pointed it at the teen heading for the booth.

"Don't go any closer to that phone!" She shouted with as much courage as her quivering voice could manage.

"What the, is that a stick?" One of the teens asked in confusion be fore almost laughing out right at the absurdity of it, his laughter was quickly stifled when she pointed the stick at him before incanting.

"**Expelliarmus!" **She yelled as she poured as much power into the spell as she could possibly manage.

She smiled weakly as the red bolt connected with the teen's chest, sending him flying backwards from the force of it. She was also idly surprised when a small folded up knife landed by her feet, though it was quickly hidden. With as much bravado as she could muster she pointed her wand at the teen closest to the phone booths before speaking.

"You back away before I do you the same as I did him." Motioning toward the newest teen lying on the ground. Her small smile could only widen as the teen, wide-eyed and fearful, began to tremble and back away from the phones. Now it was only a matter of time before the ministry showed up. This far in to the city and with magic being used as it was, she knew they wouldn't send a measly owl to reprimand her, they would show up personally to investigate. However she found her growing hope and calm quickly snuffed out as the teen she had hexed earlier began to groan and rise.

"The fucking hell was that? What the hell are you two freaks?" He growled as he finally rose to her feet.

""You okay man?" One of the others asked him as he stood panting angrily.

"Peachy! John go phone 999, me and Tony will handle this bitch!" He barked.

"You shall do no such thing," came a calm, cold voice from the distance. Out from the shadows of the alley stepped a man. He was a tall man dressed in black slacks and a blue button-down cotton shirt. His hair was a long and lustrous black, done up in a pony-tail to keep it out of his face. His eyes were a chestnut brown, yet they held a powerful intensity to them that made the girl almost feel as though he wasn't looking at you but at your soul. He had a muscular frame, but it was not overtly muscular. He had enough definition for it to be noticeable, but not enough to be considered a body builder. By his skin tone and facial features, the three conscious teens and the girl all could tell that he was of Asian descent.

"Oh yeah, and what are you going to do about it?" one of the teens demanded arrogantly.

"First, I shall merely warn you. If however you persist on the course of action you are now taking, I shall be forced to take action against you," the man stated calmly.

"You looking to get beat down too?" The same teen inquired angrily.

"Dave, I think we better listen to him," one of his companions whispered.

"Yeah right, there are three of us, and only one of him. We can handle th-" the teen never got a chance to finish his boast. Later he would learn that he had been taken down quickly by a sharp chop to the back of his neck. His friends, of course, fared no better. As soon as he fell, they too took a single hit each. They were already falling to the ground as they finally comprehended that the strange Asian man had moved, in an instant, from his position into their very midst.

"Such a shame," the strange man said as he finished the last of them off.

Finally he looked over at the reason why he had waited so long to interfere in the fight. In truth, he had planned to enter the fray as soon as he saw that the teens' actions were less than honorable. But then the small child before him stepped forward. At first he had simply planned to save both children, but then the small child had shown he possessed the spirit of a true martial artist. He had fought to defend the girl. For the first time in a very long time, he felt the desire to take a disciple.

"St-stay back," came the trembling voice of the girl. Turning slightly, the man saw that she had once again mustered her courage and was now pointing her wand at him much like a gun.

"My, my, you as well? What have I done to offend you?" the man wondered aloud to himself as he smiled lightly.

"I know who you are, so just stay away from me!" she ordered as she began to back away, intending to protect the small child who had tried to protect her. If she was lucky the Ministry would be here any second, and she and the boy would be safe from the man before her.

"So, tell me child, if you know who I am, what do you think you could possibly do?" Suddenly the man's voice came from behind her. Startled she turned and fired a blue light from her stick. She could only gasp as it seemingly passed right through him.

"Stay away from him!" she screamed, as he appeared unharmed next to the downed form of the boy.

"Child, I have no desire to hurt you or this young boy, though he has piqued my interest. It is rare to see one of our kind trained in the art." He said calmly as he hefted the boy over his shoulder.

"You leave him alone!" she repeated, shouting as yet another blue bolt of energy was thrown at him. This time however it did not pass through him. Somehow he defied what she knew to be possible and blocked the spell with his bare arm. The spell was sent flying into the trees as he stood before her, unharmed and still holding her tiny savior.

"As I already said, I mean neither you nor this child harm. Has my reputation been so tainted that you would attack a protector?" he asked calmly.

"You ain't fooling me! Momma told me all about you. You're one of the worst Undesirables in the country," she said shakily as she began to back away in fear as it truly began to dawn on her how foolish it was to act against this man. Maybe the hat had been wrong when it put her in the house of the badger; right now she was acting far more lion-ish than anything else.

"They still persist on labeling me as such?" he asked before shaking his head sadly. "Though it is far from my normal course of actions, I shall take my leave of you. The Ministry shall be here soon, and you are obviously in no further danger. I shall take my leave of you now." He said before turning to leave.

"You put him down!" she shouted one last time.

Desperately, she released a bolt of magic at him once more. This time however he did not merely just block her attack, he sent it flying back at her. Catching the meager bolt of magic in his free left hand, he twirled before releasing the bolt, right back at her. She was struck by her own spell, slightly enhanced by the man's own magical power, and was summarily disarmed as it sent her crashing to the ground. She could only watch helplessly as he turned and faded from sight. No crack sounded as he faded from sight, just his image turning fuzzy before disappearing completely.

As she lay on the ground helplessly, she could only tear up slightly as her own lack of strength sank in. That day she swore that she would get stronger. That way, she would never need to be saved again. That day set her on her future path of a law keeper for the British ministry of magic. And as the Aurors finally appeared in the area, wands drawn, she could feel more tears start falling from her eyes when they began to question her on what been happening.

"What the bloody hell happened here?" one particularly gnarled looking man asked angrily as a prosthetic eye swiveled madly in its socket."

"Li Chang," she managed to gasp out.

"Bloody hell, girl, you're lucky to be alive. What happened?"

And so she told them of the small child who had tried to save her, how he moved with a grace she thought impossible, and how she thought that young martial artist somehow stood as a very embodiment of the house of the lion. All the while they could only pray he would be safe, none of them knew just what the evil villain Chang had in store for the poor kid, or how the same kid would one day shape their future.

333

Fiori: And here it is folks a brand new story in the world of Harry Potter, I would like to personally thank Tellemicus Sundance for coming up with this concept and allowing me the honor of actually turning it into a full blow story. Over all I think that this story will go quite well and be very exciting.

Now on to the normal bit were I tell you all to review else i hurt you or one of the cast members in some horrible way, but really it's Christmas time, so have a happy one folks.

Cedric: Does that mean you'll untie me?

Fiori: Shut up before I tell the Twilight fan-girls you're here, I'm doing you a favor by keeping you safe.

Cedric: I'll be good.

Fiori: Thank you, as i said before, have a merry Christmas, a happy Hanuka, Happy Ramadan, Quanza, Yuletide, and all the other random holidays that are celebrated around this time of year.

Review or Santa gives you coal.


	2. Path of the Adept

Harry Potter and the Oriental Philosophy

Based on the concept by _Tellemicus Sundance_

_I don't own Harry Potter._

Chapter Two: The Path of an Adept

_"Perfection of the body shall eventually lead to the perfection of the mind and soul"_ Martial artist's code.

It had been little under an hour since she and her father had decided to go for an outing in the world he had grown up in. A world where a person would use their own abilities to achieve their goal, instead of just the flick of a wand, A world where people traveled not by broom or teleporting, but in trains and cars. The muggle world, and it completely fascinated young Nymphadora Tonks. There were so many things that the muggles had achieved by their own merits, and not by birth or even magic.

That day her father had taken her to a small park he could remember running through as a child before he received his letter. At thirteen years old the young girl had been quick to run off into the surrounding trees and out of her fathers sight. She fully believed that she was absolutely safe in her passage through the small trees.

It had all gone down hill from there, first the gang of muggle boys had cornered and surrounded her, calling out obscene things. Then they had tried to grab her, she had no idea what could have happened if the small child hadn't jumped into the mix. Her heart truly sank when Li Chang, Britain's fifth most Undesirable had appeared. She had tried to hold him off long enough for the Aurors, but in the end he had done what she had been led to believe was impossible and reflected a spell back at her without the use of a wand.

Now she sat in the park waiting for her father as the five Aurors that had responded to her use of magic worked to modify the memories of the five boys that had assaulted her, as well as search out for any clues of the location of Chang and the boy who had been taken. One such Auror stood in front of her, constantly regaling her with questions.

"What color were his eyes?" The scar faced man asked as his prosthetic eye swiveled about madly in his socket.

"Green I think," She replied for what felt like the hundredth time.

"What shade?" The man asked abruptly. Tonks seemed to pause as she considered the question. What she could recall of the child his eyes had been swelled and covered in his own freely flowing blood. But one thing immediately stood out when she recalled it.

"Emerald." She finally responded.

"What!" the man asked suddenly in shock. He had only ever heard that shade of green used to describe one persons eyes, and she had been dead for six years now.

"His eyes they were like emeralds." She responded.

"And his hair, would you describe it as unruly, wild, or crows nest?" He asked again dreading the answer he might receive.

"Nest, it was pretty messy."

"Merlin's saggy scrotum!" The man suddenly swore violently, drawing the attention of all around him.

"Moody, what the devil is the matter with you?" Asked a large black man.

"The description she's giving, I think I know who it was, but I can't be entirely sure. But if I'm right then this is far more serious than we can imagine."

"Oh!" Tonks suddenly exclaimed.

"What is it girl, something else about the boy you're just remembered?" Moody asked.

"I can show him to you." She said slightly embarrassed.

"What do you mean show us, you can't be that talented at mind magic's, not at your age, and I doubt you could conjure up a good enough illusion." Moody said in confusion.

"Well, you see it's kind of embarrassing but-"

"Dora!" Came the fearful cry of an older man as he rushed towards his daughter and the men surrounding her. The man dressed nicely and normally in muggle clothing, lacking the garish color schemes that most of the wizarding world wore when trying to blend with the muggles. His skin was much the same complexion of his daughter, except in this case it was significantly paled in fear. His eyes like his daughters were a light brown, though she could easily change her eyes. His hair was a light brown as well, and was currently worn short and orderly.

"Daddy!" Tonks suddenly yelled as she threw herself into the arms of her father, regardless of the information she held. She was still shaken from both the confrontation with the muggle teens as well as Chang. Now that her father was here she couldn't help but begin to fall apart. Tears she hadn't known she was repressing began to stream down her face as he held her in his arms, giving her comfort and warmth.

"Are you alright Dora? You had me so worried, what would your mother have said if I came home without you?" He asked as he began to comfort his child as best he could, given that they had several Aurors watching them.

"Sorry dad." She mumbled sadly as her father loosened his grip on her as Moody approached them.

"Not to appear heartless, but your daughter has some crucial information for us regarding a young boy who was recently abducted. She claims that she can show us what the boy looked like." Moody explained.

"Ah I see, well go ahead Dora show us the boy." Ted offered engorgement as he nudged his daughter forward.

Tonks looked from her father back to the grizzled and weary form of Moody before closing her eyes in concentration. Focusing on what she could remember of the mysterious lion before he had become bloodied she began to change. Moody could only watch darkly as her body shrank and her hair turned from pink into an ebony mop that made her old style look like a tamed puppy in comparison. With ever growing dread he recognized it as the common Potter mop, and when she opened her eyes to reveal glittering emerald he could only growl in anger.

"Morgana's sagging tits!" He shouted angrily as he realized just who had been abducted.

"Language sir, my daughter is just a child." Ted said in shock as he watched the irate Auror limp back and forth.

"You daughter may be a child, and one with an amazing gift. But the boy she saw abducted is our main concern right now." He growled back.

"I understand that, but what has you so worked up?" He asked in confusion.

"I'm afraid that information is of a confidential nature, now if you'll excuse me there are people who need to be informed about this immediately" Moody snapped as he turned and disapperated with a crack, leaving behind a confused team of Aurors, as well as a concerned parent and child.

Just what was so important about one kid that he needed to report to the higher ups?

333

Li Chang watched the small boy he had saved with interest. He had long since moved to one of his many safe houses in London after leaving the park, there he had tended to the small child's injuries, which were already in the process of magically healing, and as he was doing this he had discovered the boys scar. Now while he was mostly ostracized by his kind at large, he was aware of certain events. He knew full well that this was the child to survive direct contact with the death curse.

With this discovery his curiosity about the child only grew, he knew full well that he was orphaned, but who was caring for him now. It obviously couldn't be the wizards, they would never have allowed for him to get out of their sights, or be so thoroughly beaten by the teens. Nor would they have trained him in the Art, so how did he have the basics, why was he seemingly alone at the park, and most of all why did he attack the teens.

As a martial artist he knew why he would have intervened, but what of this child. What were his motives? Did he only seek to inflate his ego, or were he and the child alike? Was he as much a protector of the weak as Li himself was? Only the child could answer his questions.

With a sigh Li began to move through the motions of a kata to calm himself. So many emotions and questions welling up inside of him with no outlet or answers was not healthy. He needed a degree of focus if he was to be ready. Knowing what he now did, he had no doubt that the Aurors were searching for him to get at the child he now had under his protection, and doubtlessly they would be slandering his name again.

As he began to move faster, he began to lose himself in the motions that were so second nature to him. His hands lashing out in quick deadly blows, His legs cutting through the air. Faster and faster he went, till each blow left gashes in the air itself. Little did he know that he now had a quiet observer.

Harry could only watch as the man danced through the kata. At first he had been confused when he woke up in a bed softer than any he had ever know, with bandages wrapped snuggly around his injuries. It was then he noticed the man, at first he moved through the motions of the Art at a sedate and almost leisurely pace, but as time past he grew faster and faster, till he was just a blur in Harry's eyes. To say he was amazed would be an understatement. As the man began to slow down before eventually stopping, Harry did the only thing his brain could think of after witnessing such a splendid performance of the Art. He began to clap.

At the sound of a small body clapping in appreciation and excitement Li looked towards Harry in mild confusion. When he saw the look of awe on the young boys face he could not help but smile.

"You are awake," He stated leisurely as he walked closer to Harry.

"Um, yes sir. Could you tell me where I am?" Harry asked, suddenly nervous when he realized that he was alone in a strange place with a strange man. One who despite his calm and friendly tone was obviously dangerous.

"You are currently in my home, and as to your upcoming questions of how and why you are here I shall instead opt to answer them now. I brought you here after witnessing your attempt to fend off the teens attacking the young mage girl. You impressed me." Li answered.

"Mage girl?" Harry asked in confusion, not quite understanding what the Asian man meant. This in turn caused Li a small bit of confusion.

"Yes, the girl you protected. She was like us, magical." He explained.

"But sir, there's no such thing as magic, isn't there?" Harry replied almost automatically before recalling his own strange abilities.

"If that is so then explain your act of teleportation." Li replied, though he was utterly confused. How could a veritable hero like Harry not know about the magical world?

"Well I suppose." Harry replied sheepishly.

"Tell me, why do you respond so about magic when you yourself know of your own powers?" Li asked.

"Well, my relatives have always told me that there was no such thing." Harry answered.

"Really now, that is interesting. Tell me where were these relatives of yours when you were fighting of those hooligans?" Li asked calmly.

"My uncle threw my out of the house about a week and a half ago." Harry answered bitterly.

"Why?"

"Because I beat my cousin in a sparring match, I kind of broke his arm. My uncle went crazy over it." Harry replied hotly as he recalled his uncle's unwarranted attack on him. Li stared at Harry for a while as he absorbed the information he was given. He was utterly shocked that any man who let the children in their care practice the art could react in such a way.

"Why don't you tell me about your uncle, you may as well include your aunt as well, and perhaps your cousin." Li final said after a prolonged silence.

"Well Dudley used to be a jerk, but he got better. My aunt and uncle however…" Harry began to describe in detail how he slept in a cupboard, how he used to be barely fed any food, the hateful and mistrusting looks, and most of the near slave like conditions that they had made him work in. Of course he never truly realized that it was wrong that they used him in such a manner. He was merely tired of it, as he never had any understanding of any other kind of treatment; he never knew that the conditions he lived in were so utterly wrong.

Li however knew without question that what Harry had been put through was wrong and borderline evil. Had Harry's story included acts of violence on his person Li was sure that he would have left to cement the opinions of the wizarding world. Such people as he was describing were horrible, but as the child seemed to bear them no ill will he did his best to hide his outrage.

"Is something wrong sir?" Harry asked cautiously as the man before him seemed to clench his fists more and more the longer Harry's story dragged on.

"Quite," Le responded coldly.

"What is it sir?" Harry asked politely.

"It is your family that is wrong, to treat you as they have, it is like they thought of you as a slave. Such things are illegal in this country." Li responded.

"Really?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Yes Harry, it truly is." Li responded tiredly.

"How do you know my name sir? I don't think I ever told you." Harry asked in sudden confusion.

"I know your name because few of our kind don't. You child are unique, the first person to ever survive the death curse." Li's explanation however only seemed to confuse Harry further.

"Sir, what do you mean our kind?" Harry asked innocently.

"I should not be surprised by your lack of knowledge. By your story it would seem that you have absolutely no knowledge of your heritage. You are a mage young child, a being with innate magical powers. As am I." Li explained.

"But what did you mean earlier, surviving death magic?" Harry asked, his curiosity growing with each passing second.

Li sighed as he began the long explanation of Voldemort's rise to power, how he slaughtered and butchered countless innocents, how the Order of the Phoenix had risen to fight him alongside the Aurors. He even included his own minor battles in the war. Finally he explained that for some reason Voldemort had targeted Harry and his parents, and then how they were eventually were fond and killed. All of it leading up to how Harry received the lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

"So they didn't die in a car crash?" Harry finally asked as it all sank in.

"Is that what you were told? My, my, they must really fear magic." Li shook his head at the irrational fear that Harry's relatives must have held for magic. Harry only nodded his head as he continued to think about everything Li had told him, including his name. To say he was shocked would be an understatement. There was a whole 'other world out there, and he and that girl were part of it.

"Oh crap, the girl!" Harry suddenly yelled as he finally remembered the girl in the park.

"You speak of the one in the park?" Li asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Is she okay, what happened after I got knocked out, did you save her?" Harry fired off question after question as he remembered the shell-shocked girl who just refused to run.

"You need not be concerned she is well, last I saw of her anyway." Li answered in amusement at the rapid pace the child asked questions.

"Oh thank god," Harry sighed in relief as he slumped back down.

"You were concerned for her safety, why?" Li asked. He truly hoped he liked the answer. After all the more he talked with the boy, the more he grew sure that the boy would make an excellent disciple in his style.

"Well my sensei always said that we should protect others, besides it was the right thing to do." Harry answered honestly as he began to scratch the back of his neck. Li in turn smiled, he had honestly expected that to be the boy's answer, but he had to be sure. Now all that was left to ask the child if he desired to learn more of the Art. However he was completely floored when Harry spoke next.

"Um, sir, if you don't mind me asking, but could you teach me how to be as strong as you are?" Harry asked nervously.

"Funny you should ask that," Li smiled as he looked at his soon-to-be student.

"Why?"

"I was just about to ask if you desired such training, but as you asked first it is only fair that I answer positively, so yes young Harry. I shall further your training in the Art." Li answered with a hint of cheer creeping into his voice. Harry in turn smiled widely as he imagined himself reaching Li's level of strength.

If only he knew what he'd have to go through to get that strong, he might have backed out, but then again he probably wouldn't have.

333

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was not in a happy mood. His day had started off well enough. He had found a new Defense teacher, and even managed to convince them the position wasn't cursed. Then he had settled down to enjoy a book and think about socks. Then Alastor Moody had come barging into his office with the most disturbing news, although at first he didn't understand it.

"He's missing Albus," moody stated as he walked into the room.

"Who is missing?" Dumbledore asked in confusion.

"The boy Albus, he was taken by Li Chang not even an hour ago." Moody answered.

"I'm sorry, you have me terribly confused. What boy are we talking about?" Contrary to popular belief Dumbledore was not all knowing, just very well informed.

"The Potter boy Albus, he was taken by Chang." Moody replied; finally giving Dumbledore the answer he sought. Though the news was nowhere near good.

"That's impossible, I would have been informed had he disappeared. The wards are still operat-" Dumbledore paused as he swirled to examine the devices that kept him updated on the ward surrounding Privet drive. Yet instead of seeing them spinning as they were supposed to, many of them had stopped. The only one that seemed to be in any state of operation was the one that monitored his heart signs.

"Well Albus, what do your instruments tell you?" Moody asked mockingly.

"He truly is gone, Why was I not informed?" he asked angrily as he swirled to face the portraits and the phoenix that observed the room silently.

"We didn't know, we didn't see them stop." Answered one of the portraits.

"What about that squib you've got watching the boy, why didn't she tell you anything?" Another one of them asked. Dumbledore's eyes widened as the question sank in. Why hadn't Arabella Figg inform him that Harry was gone? Moving with anger and purpose he grabbed a pinch of powder in his fingers before throwing it into the fireplace.

Moody only watched as Dumbledore stuck his head into the flames and began to talk with someone on the other side. He watched with a humorless smile as Dumbledore pulled his head out swearing along the way.

"What did she say?" Alastor questioned seriously.

"She had no idea the boy was missing, she's been on holiday for the past week, she only just got back. Damn!" Dumbledore swore angrily.

"I warned you Albus, as did Minerva, you should have kept a closer eye on the boy." Moody said smugly.

"You think I don't know that now Alastor?" The wizened headmaster asked angrily.

"Knowing it now doesn't change that we have a crisis. CONSTANT VIGILANCE! I always told you, but you just wouldn't listen." Moody barked back. Silence deafened the room as both party's stood steaming at the other. Finally after what felt like an eternity Dumbledore sighed.

"You are right in this Alastor. I should have taken a much more active role in the boys childhood, but as things are now we must retrieve him. We need him Alastor, he's not dead and only Harry can stop him." Dumbledore said solemnly.

"Then you best gather The Order, we'll need all the help in the world to find the boy. If Li took him then who knows what might befall him."

333

(Six month after Harry disappeared)

Dudley sighed as he moved around the sparring ring. His opponent was another boy around his age, and in fact was quite skilled. Yet he found no joy in the fight. It just wasn't the same. His opponent seemed so to move in a snails pace compared to the speed he was used to facing. He cringed and flinched away from Dudley's blows.

Growling he pushed forward at his opponent. Blocking the roundhouse kick sent at his chest. In what seemed a classical move Dudley's fingers lashed out and caught the leg before it could be retracted back. Shifting his weight as he had done time and time again he threw his opponent to the ground. But he did not right himself, as Harry would have. Instead he crashed to the ground and lay sprawled on there unmoving. With a glare Dudley began to move towards the downed fighter.

"Get up." He growled as the boy lay on the ground.

"But I-" The boy began to groan.

"Shut-up and stand up. Harry's taken harder hit than that and stood right back up." Dudley growled.

"I'm not Harry!" the other boy shouted.

Dudley could only glare at the boy as he slowly dragged himself to his feet. It was sad to watch really. He knew that Harry would have been back up in a flash and on him quicker than his whale of a father on bacon.

As soon as he stood up again Dudley moved forward quickly. Lashing out with a quick right straight. His foe backpedaled quickly. Yet still Dudley would not relent. With the same force ha had always used to match his cousin he dove forward. His foe blocked his next three punches before Dudley finally made a hole through his guard. With a quick punch he knocked the wind clean out of his opponent. Sparring one last angry glance at his downed foe Dudley turned and walked away.

'Harry, what are you doing right now? Are you still growing strong? Are you even still alive, I have to know.'

333

At that very moment Harry was currently dancing through a myriad of different foes. His thoughts currently focused on how sadistic his teacher was. Really paying goblins to animate several wooden dolls so they would attack him and mimic the movements of a martial artist was bad. But then to add several suits of armor to the small squad of life-sized marionettes he kept with him, and then adding fifty-pound weights to Harry's arms and legs was seriously pushing it.

Harry dodged underneath one of the puppets jabs before lashing out with a kick to its 'stomach'. Following that he moved as quickly as he could to dodge a leg sweep from another. Moving with a haste he had previously never possessed he jumped clear over the thing before kicking it hard in the back. Next he lashed out to the approaching suit of armor.

The armor in turn blocked his punch, and then moved with a speed that should have been impossible for it and struck him clear across the jaw. As Harry backpedaled to recover, more of the animated opponents began to close in on him. Quickly he ducked under another blow from the same suit of armor before sweeping its legs out from under it. Dodging around another blow from another suit, Harry lashed out with a left hook, taking the helm clean off. Backing away Harry couldn't help but hold his hand. Regardless of how strong he was, punching the suits of armor still hurt.

Shaking his head he turned back to the remaining eight opponents. Smiling grimly he charged back into the fray.

333

(Fourteen months after Harry's disappearance)

Harry could only watch in awe as his teacher and father figure battled against his foe. He had always known Li was strong, but to see the battle that raged before him, it clearly showed him that he had decades to go before he could truly match his sifu. Looking back at how things progressed to this fight, Harry could only wonder what his master had done to offend Song Si.

Li and Harry had been walking through the London streets on their way home to begin their afternoon training. Since they had mostly stayed in London since their meeting, they had quickly turned the abandoned bunker Harry found into what passed for home. It was in this Bunker that most of Harry's training happened, it was both large enough to accommodate the small army of dummies that Li used from time to time, to train him, and with the application of wards Li had learned during his travels, the bunker was quite sturdy. Though the bunker was far from ideal for some of the thing Li would eventually impart to Harry. Even with the wards, some of the things he knew would attract too much attention to be shown or taught in such an area. But he needed to be sure that Harry at least had the basics before he hauled him off to the Orient.

However Li soon heard a familiar voice that shook him from his thoughts.

"Li Chang, today you shall fall before my might!" Called the voice. Turning Harry and Li saw a man. He was Asian like Li was, but his hair was lighter than Chang's, rather than the dark ebony of Harry and Li, this mans hair was a mousy brown. It was also cut shorter than Li's, worn just above his ears. His eyes were like Li's in the sense that they seemed to look through you instead of at you, yet as Li's were brown this man had pale green eyes, hinting at a mixed heritage. He was dressed simply in a pair of brown khaki cargo pants and a green shirt.

However all this was taken in by Harry in a single split second. In the instant he turned to gaze at the shouter, the man had already gone on the attack. Lashing out at Li with a quick right, one that Li dodged under quickly, before countering with his own attack. However his foe appeared to be just as quick as Li himself was. Jumping back the strange man began to circle Li, his eyes locked with Harry's teacher.

"Song Si, how pleasant to see you." Li said with a predatory smirk before lunging at his opponent.

Soon the two were joined in a competition of punches, kicks, block, counter-strikes, and any number of attacks, each one trying to break through the others defense. However it would appear that they seemed to have forgotten that they were in a public park, and even now they drew the attention of several mundane joggers.

Harry could only sigh as he moved to run damage control. Luckily he had learned that most people are quick to accept simple answers. Thus it was easy to convince the many who passed by that they were simply filming a movie. The explanation even worked when one of Song's stray blows shattered a tree.

Li dodged past the blow that had shattered the tree and looked directly into the eyes of his oldest rival. It was always an eventful fight when they met, though he hadn't expected to see him in London. Never the less he would enjoy the fight.

Charging forward he let loose several punches at lightning quick speeds, faster than most could ever hope to see. Song of course was not the average human, and thus he was able to block several of the blows, and deflect the rest to places of no importance, this was quickly followed by a strike aimed at Li's now open guard. Yet things would never be easy when fighting Li Chang. Instead of striking his rival, Song's fist instead flew through the after image, right before Li appeared at his left, then his right, followed by his front again, then his right twice more, and so it continued. Li phased in and out of sight, faster than even Song could follow; a precise, quick, and devastating blow followed each appearance.

Harry again found it a little too easy to explain that away to the mundanes.

333

Finally after an epic battle that lasted for over an hour-and-a-half, caused massive collateral damage to the surrounding, and over seven-dozen excited mundanes leaving to await the movie that accompanied the supposed 'filming'. However what surprised Harry was that after all was said and done, there really was no clear winner between the two. Both Li and Song were battered and injured to the point where they needed support just to sit. Truly it was rather amazing, the fight really was like something out of the movies.

"So we tie again Li?" Song asked semi-amiably.

"It would appear so old friend. We have both improved vastly." Li offered weakly.

"I aint your friend you piece of shit mage!" Song groused angrily before he finally took note of their lone observer.

"Great looks like we're about to be asked to do some teaching again. Beat it kid, I don't take disciples." Song growled at Harry.

"That's okay, I already have a teacher. I just wanted to know what this fight was all about?" Harry shrugged, throwing Song through a loop. Every time he had a public brawl like this with one of his rivals, there would always be some kid from the crowd who'd come up to him and his opponent and demand to be taught how to fight like them. However here was the first that didn't demand it.

"Song I would like for you to make the acquaintance of my disciple Harry, Harry this is my oldest rival Song Si." Li answered.

"Wait what?" Song asked in shock.

"I took a student." Li replied.

"But why? Students are such a hassle, they take away from your own time training, they're usually loud and whiney and wouldn't even think about sacrificing their life for the Art like we have." Song argued.

"If that's true than how did you get so skilled, surely there had to be someone who taught you, sure there is the possibility that you're self taught, but with your level of skill and the techniques I saw you use there is really no way you're one hundred percent self taught." Harry shot back, silencing Song's argument.

"I think he won that one old friend." Li smiled happily.

"Would you shut-up, I already told you we aint friends!" Song shouted, going for a subject he was familiar with.

"So what was that fight about?" Harry asked again.

"It was just another chapter in our on going conflict." Li answered, doing his best to ignore the now skulking Song.

"Really?" Harry asked curiously, with a trace of disappointment.

"What's the matter kid, you going to tell us that what we're doing is wrong?" Song asked rudely, quite familiar with kids telling him how wrong it was to use violence to solve such petty squabbles, or the one about how if he were truly a martial artist he would know not to start fights.

"Nope, I was just hoping for more of a story than that." Harry answered honestly enough, once more throwing Song through a loop.

"Wait you're not going to lecture us on how wrong it is to use martial arts that way?" Song asked in confusion, Harry merely shook his head.

"I've got my own rival, so telling you two off for something I'm okay with would make me a liar." Harry answered.

"What exactly do you wish to know Harry?" Li asked, a slight smile on his lips as Harry continued to surprise Song.

"Well, how long have you two been rivals, and what sparked the conflict, why does he keep calling you a mage. Stuff like that." Harry answered.

"To start we have been rivals for sixty years, what started it was at best a conflict of beliefs, this of course ties into your third question. Song, being a mundane, believes that my innate use of magic in the martial arts is a form of cheating. It didn't help our relationship when I arrogantly called him a worthless muggle who could never amount to anything. He proved me wrong, thus I was set on improving. Though I must thank him for knocking the last of pure-blood bigotry out of me." Li explained.

"Wait sixty years? Neither of you look a day over twenty-five." Harry looked at them both in shock.

"That would be an effect of what we are. Mages are normally long lived, add the martial arts to the mix and we can last far longer than just about anything." Li explained.

"Okay then what about him?' Harry asked pointing at Song.

"My mastery of the Art has extended my life, most Ki-adepts can last two centuries before we begin to grow venerable, longer if our mastery and levels of Ki are high enough." Song explained.

"Don't you mean Chi?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Che, don't compare me to your kind." Song answered.

"What my old friend means is that Chi is the equivalent to those born with magical abilities. For Song, who was not born a mage, he only possesses Ki, which is a combination of both his physical and spiritual prowess, his mastery of it allows for him greater abilities than most could even dream of. Our Chi is at the core the same thing, but as we were born mages, we subconsciously add magic into the mix, thus we generate something similar yet fundamentally different."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked while ignoring Song yet again grumbling about not being Li's friend. He understood some of what his teacher was describing, but some of it went over his head.

"Ki-adepts must work within nature, they can bend it, while we Chi-adepts are capable of breaking them." Li answered

"Think you can understand that kid?" Song asked mockingly.

"Not really, but it'll probably come with age." Harry answered honestly.

Yet again Song found himself struggling to understand the child that would now be following his rival around.

333

(Fifteen months after Harry's disappearance)

Dudley ran from his home, his anger growing with each and every single step. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a green shirt, on his back was a small rucksack containing not mountains of toys and candy, but several pairs of cloths a loaf of bread, a few cans of food and a can opener, along with a single picture.

The picture was one of the few that could be found of his cousin in his old 'home'. In the picture one could see both himself and Harry standing next to one another standing in a ready stance facing the camera, around their waists were their new belts. Receiving them at the same time, Petunia had no choice but to include Harry in the picture unless she wanted to appear abnormal. To Dudley it was a reminder of his loss, both of the greatest friends and rival he would ever have. It was true really. Harry was truly the nicest person he could have ever met in his short life. Dudley just hated that it took him losing Harry to figure out how much of a jerk he had been.

Now one might be wonder just what Dudley was doing at this moment in his life. If you haven't already guessed, he was running away. He had grown tired of his parents' attitude, the slovenly behavior of his father, the intrusive personality of his mother, but most of all he had grown tired of their obsession with normality. The final straw however was when they tried to take his art away from him.

That would not stand, he needed to keep practicing, and he just knew that Harry was still practicing. He needed to be ready next time they met. So when they tried to take it away from him, telling him it was making him act abnormally, he had packed his cloths, stole three thousand pounds from his fathers dresser, and he had ran.

That had been hours ago however, since then he had barely paid any mind to the direction he was heading. Now he found himself a semi-urban part of London, behind him was the start of a small apartment complex. In front of him were a few shops and a seedy looking bar. What made him sweat however was the man standing next to a bike, looking at him hungrily.

Doing his best to ignore the man Dudley once again began walking. His best bet would be to find some other people if he wished to avoid trouble from the strange man. The problem with that however would be that they might try to take him home, which would only bring up the problem of him not wishing to return. Glancing behind him he saw that instead of remaining by the bar, the strange pale man had disappeared entirely. Exhaling in relief Dudley continued walking forward, when suddenly a pair of iron strong arms shot out from the darkness of an adjacent alley, pulling him in.

333

Song was not in the best of moods as he exited the bar. Sure he had found Li again and gotten into several matches with him, but he never truly beat the Chi-adept. They had been fighting for far too long, both knew the others style inside and out. Even when they added and incorporated new techniques and styles into to the fight, the other would still find some way to counter and eventually the fight would end in a tie. What also depressed him was the constant presence of the boy Li had taken as an apprentice.

In a way he knew that there was no true reason to be angered at Li for taking on a student. No matter how much he was against teaching some kid, he knew that it was his duty as one of the surviving Ki-adepts to find a student and train them in his style. So that one day that student might surpass him and further the power of their shared style of the art. It was what his master had done before him, and his master's master before that. Soon he too would need to seek a disciple.

What annoyed him was that Li had found his student first, just another thing for Li to hold over him. Li had been the first to start practicing the art, and only Song's combined abilities as a prodigy and his never surrender attitude had allowed him to win his first conflict with Li. After that it had been back and forth between them, one winning then losing the next time, until finally it had reached the end.

Yet now Li would fall to the sidelines, training his student more than engaging in competition. Sure Li would still train, but his primary drive would be teaching his student. Even if Song managed to beat him in the next few months, it would seem pointless now. He needed to beat Li while he was at his absolute best; anything else was an insult to them both.

Really the only way he could truly triumph now would be if he found a student of his own to trump Li's. Truthfully he had no problem taking an apprentice now, just to spite Li when his student beat the little green-eyed child. The problem however would be finding said student to kick the snot out of the budding Chi-adept. Most children in this age no longer concerned themselves with matters of combat, and those that did thought it to be a grand little game. Few lacked the drive to make one a true artist.

However his musings of finding a student were soon cut short as he heard the screaming. Quickly looking to the nearby alleyway Song quickly moved to action. From the very start he knew that the screams belonged to that of a child, yet as he entered the alley, he saw not a young teen as he had expected, but instead a boy that could be no older than Li's disciple.

Quickly his horror at the sight turned into rage as he turned his eyes onto the figure pinning the child to the wall. He didn't need to use any of his gifts to know immediately what the creature was. It's eyes completely consumed by darkness, it's entire maw filled with glittering daggers, the pale skin, and the hands that ended in claws instead of fingers. The beast could only be a vampire; to be exact it was one of the Feral Circle vampires. Immediately Song dove towards the soulless monstrosity that sought to take the life of the child before him. With a quick Ki laced chop to the beast's hand he forced the creature to drop the boy, before punching it in the face.

The vampire shocked as it was to have its meal interrupted looked to the man that had interrupted its meal. What it saw was a clearly Asian man standing protectively over the child. Literally growling the vampire began to regard the man in front of it.

"You got a death wish pal?" It asked cruelly.

"It's not me who's a death wish bloodsucker. That would be you, attacking a kid, what are you stupid?" Song answered hotly.

"Me, have a death wish, just who do you think you are?" The creature asked menacingly.

"I am your death." Sounded Song's cold voice from directly behind the creature. Before it even comprehended that Song had moved it soon found a piece of wood shoved clear though it's heart before it was reduced to ash on the winds.

Song having quickly ended the fight then turned to regard the child he had saved. Imagine his surprise when instead of the child being one the ground racked with fear and coughing fits, the boy instead stood defiantly before him. What was even more interesting was the stance the child had assumed, it was a solid one that covered the openings and would have been quite effective on anyone of the child's size and speed.

"What the hell was that?" The blond child eventually asked, panic finally becoming evident in his tone.

"It was nothing kid, just something you should forget. You better hurry home." Song tried to reassure him.

"Bull, you just made that guy explode, and I'm never going back to them." He added for a final good measure.

"So you're goanna be one of the few who doesn't try to rationalize the unexplained. Figures, as a kid your mind is still open." Song nodded as he continued to look at the child, noting the bag at the entrance to the alley. "You're running away from home." He stated finally.

"What's it to you?" The boy asked angrily.

"Not much really, guess you could say I was wondering why a kid was out here in this part of London. It just aint safe." Song answered.

"I can take care of myself!" The boy shouted in a manner that much reminded Song of himself. For this reason he forgot to pick his words for the reply.

"Yeah and that's why you were nearly a snack for a nameless bloodsucker." He said crassly.

"So it was a vampire?" The boy asked in shock, his stance coming undone slightly, yet only enough to offer minor openings.

"Shit, fine it was a vampire, they exist, along with pretty much anything else you can imagine, and most of them think you'll make a good snack. So go home where it's safe from the monsters." Song grumbled angrily.

"I'm not going back!"

"Why the bloody hell not?"

"They wanted to take away my Art." Was the boys reply, and it was that reply that proud Song up short.

The reverence and passion in which the child had referred to the word art, was the same he, Li, and now that brat following Li, would use when referring to the martial art. He could tell that the boy knew how to fight. But it was the rare souls that referred to 'self-defense', as it had become, as the true art that it was. Perhaps this was karma answering him. He had wanted to find a student, and here was a kid that was starting to remind him of himself. Surely that had to be a sign.

"What's you name kid?" he asked curiously.

"Dudley Dursley."

"Well Dudley if you do not wish to return to safety I've got to ask what do you plan to do with your life?" Song asked.

"I'm going to grow strong, and find my rival to pay him back." Dudley replied passionately.

"Oh, and just who's this rival of yours kid?" Song asked, it wasn't common for kids this young to have rivals.

"That's none of your business!" Dudley shouted.

"Geeze no need to shout, keep your secret. But what if I could offer you something?" He asked harmlessly.

"What could you offer me?" Dudley asked hostily, not fully trusting of the strange man, regardless of the quick save he had pulled off.

"You said you wanted to grow strong right, what if I told you I could make you one of the strongest people on the planet?" Song asked, doing his best to sell the option to the kid.

"Stronger than Jet Li?" Dudley asked, showing just how much of a kid he still was.

"Way stronger." Came Song's voice from right behind Dudley. Turning in shock Dudley could only regard the strange man with awe.

"R-really?"

"Really kid, now do you want that training or not?"

"Please teach me." Dudley nearly begged, yet Song could see that the boy had enough pride to fight down that urge.

"Very well kid consider yourself my apprentice, now hurry up, I need to see what you're capable of." Song ordered as he began to march out of the alley, the boy trailing at his heels. The only thing going through his mind was how much better his student would be over Chang's.

333

(Two years, six months after Harry disappeared)

Looking back on life, the newly named Wu Kaili couldn't understand how his life had led to where it was now. Maybe it had been the choice to help the girl, or was it his choice to study under Li. Maybe it was his choice to forsake his birth name for the name he now bore, or was it when Li had told them they were leaving Europe for a training trip into the Orient. It could have been any of them and all of them, but none of it truly explained how the ten-year-old Kaili now found himself in a small crevasse in the earth facing down seven young dragons.

"Explain to me again why I'm doing this!" Kaili shouted to Li, who stood above them all as he watched his student dodge the meager blasts of flames that the six-month-old dragons sent at Kaili.

"There are many reasons for this, for one your combat with these creatures will teach you how better to fight with an opponent larger and tougher than yourself. Their flames will help build your body to resist them, add onto that the chakra points I opened on your body before this started you body will begin to adapt to heat and flames, much like mine already have." Li explained as Kaili ducked under a claw-strike from one of the beasts.

"Why couldn't you have locked me in a furnace room and had me fight that mini army you carry around if that was the case?" Kaili asked angrily as he dodged yet another set of claws before punching the fledgling dragon right in the face. The toughened hide held to the vicious Chi-laced fist that impacted against it. Yet the young scarlet dragon was forced back and dazed by the blow, leaving its neck open to a sharp kick by the budding Chi-adept. The kick served to disable the fledgling, yet not kill it. Li had assured him that it would be monumentally bad to kill the young dragons, since no force on earth would keep the mother dragon from finding him after that. Really the only thing keeping her away at the moment was the heavy amount of tranquilizer that Li kept on having her ingest.

"Because there is more to this exercise than that. Have you not noticed how they move, how I move, how you are now starting to move?" Li asked seriously, more than a little impressed, it had taken him far longer to disable even one hatchling when he went through his own version of this training.

Kaili, after jumping over a tail sweep, began to actually study how these dragons moved. As he watched one of them sweep out at him with their fore-claw, he couldn't help but notice how very similar it was to how Li moved when delivering a hook or kick. Dodging under that he noticed the little devil's jaws snap out, almost like a straight from his teacher. Quickly he moved his arm to block the incoming attack before lashing out at the base of its neck. It was then that he saw one of the other fledglings launch a small mushroom shaped, ball of fire at him. Having no place to truly dodge he grit his teeth and dived through the flames, with great surprise he noticed that they were not as hot as he had expected them to be. Rolling as he hit the ground before lashing out with a sharp kick that he idly noted was very similar to how their tails would lash out.

Li could again only watch as his student took to their now shared style like a fish to water, or a dragon to the sky's to be more accurate. For this was the true secret to the Ching Lung Fuu (Way of the Azure Dragon). It was not that the practitioners merely mimicked dragons by studying them; they actually learned how to move from the dragons themselves. In older times the practitioners were much more impressive, but with modernization many things had been lost. Yet still it was one of the most impressive schools still in existence, with those practicing it being almost comparable to the great beasts they learned from.

Though he had to suppress a wince as he saw his apprentice take a rather vicious tail-blow to the stomach, it was times like this that he remembered why it had taken so long before he was allowed to face his seven hatchlings.

333

(Four years after Harry's disappearance)

Quirrell gazed at the mirror of erised for what seemed like forever. It had been rather simple to reach where he was now. A group of first years could have gotten past the stone's so called defenses. Truly the stone had been far safer at Gringotts, dragons were far more dangerous than a tamed Cerberus could ever hope to be. The Devil Snare following had been pathetic; the flying keys weren't even charmed to resist summoning. The chessboard merely required a few well placed blasting charms, the troll had merely fallen asleep when he gave it a barrel of candy laced with a few sleep potions. Even an idiot like that Longbottom boy could have solved that pitiful logic puzzle. The only thing puzzling about it was why Snape had not merely laced all the bottles with poison.

The only really challenging part was where he was now. No matter how much he wanted he just could not get the stone. He could see himself finding it in his pocket; a devilish smirk on his lips, then his master would demand the stone from him, and then-

'Let me see the challenge.' A dark sinister voice spoke, seemingly from all around him, behind him, and inside his very own head.

"Master you are not strong enough." Quirrell tried to reason to seemingly nobody.

'I have strength enough for this' the voice assured confidently. Almost reverently Quirrell turned so the back of his head faced the mirror, and began to unwrap the large turban he wore at all times now. Upon the last vestige being removed if any had been present they would have bore witness to another face growing from the back of the supposedly timid mans head. The eyes of this malevolent growth were a deeper red than even blood could achieve, it had no nose, only a pair of slit holes, like those of a reptile, and a small mouth twisted into a curious, yet cruel expression completed the picture fully.

"What is this!" The shade of Voldemort growled angrily after looking at the mirror.

"Master?" Quirrell asked curiously.

"I can see my self with the stone, returning to life, becoming immortal, and putting the world to cleansing flames. Yet I cannot grasp the stone, what is the secret to this magic!" Voldemort shouted in rage as he glared daggers at the mirror. With the mental equivalent of a full-body-tackle, Voldemort wrenched control of the body he know possessed and made to hurl a spell at the mirror.

"I-I wouldn't do that if I were you master." Came a sudden and very meek voice.

Turning in surprise Voldemort turned and looked to the source of the voice using Quirrell's eyes. What he saw almost made him want to laugh. There standing abashedly was none other than the world's largest traitor. One that made things all the more delectably amusing since he was haled as a hero in his supposed death, before him stood none other than Peter Pettigrew, or 'Wormtail' as some knew him.

"Wormtail, a pleasant surprise I assure you, but what are you doing here?" Voldemort hissed as he began to loosen his control on his host.

"I come to help you my lord."

"Oh, now you come to help, tell me where were you when I fell to that potter wretch?"

"I was unsure of where to search, I hid myself as a rat in one of Dumbledore's favored family, I have been your silent spy for years now, garnering information as a rat." The man simpered helplessly, doing his best to prevent himself from being struck down with a Crucio.

"A spy you say, do you then perhaps possess the knowledge to gain the stone?" Voldemort asked, apparently satisfied with the pudgy man's answer.

"I do my lord, only those who wish to find the stone, but not use it may gain access to its final hiding place." Wormtail answered as he bowed his head to the shade reverently. The shade could only raise a nonexistent eyebrow at that particular kernel of information. If this was true then his host surely would have been able to gain the stone, after all their minds were separate, it wouldn't do for Dumbledore to look into Quirrell's mind only to find him, but that would mean…

'Traitor!' Came the horrendous cry of the shade.

At first Wormtail thought that his master was referring to him, but when Quirrell began to convulse and bleed at the eyes as his lord and master ripped the man's mind apart he knew that he was to be spared a horrendous fate. After five minutes of constant screaming, the mind of Quirinus Quirrell died. Voldemort's red eyes looked out onto the world through the host's eyes, his features returning fully to his own.

"Hurry Wormtail, we have little time before the meager reserves of life force that remains in this shell runs dry. It falls to you, you must retrieve the stone, fail and your demise shall be far more painful than that of the death you have just witnessed." Voldemort threatened.

"I live only to serve my lord." Wormtail once more bowed before he moved in front of the dreaded mirror. He saw himself, thinner than he was now and with more hair of course, He was smiling darkly as he pulled a dark red stone from his pocket, before slipping the very same stone back into the space he had just retrieved it from. Feeling a small weight appear next to his leg, the rat like man reverently reached into his pocket. There he found the very thing to return his master to power, power which he would doubtlessly share with him, his most faithful subject that returned him to power.

"You have the stone." Stated the cold, yet slightly relived voice of Voldemort.

"Yes, here my lord, may you rise like a phoenix from the ashes of death, more majestic than any before." Wormtail replied while extending the stone to his master.

"You shall be rewarded for your services Wormtail. Come I wish not to be reborn in the sanctuary of my enemy." The possessed corpse began to move towards the exit.

"Thank you my lord." Wormtail sputtered as he followed after him, knowing full well that he had doomed the world to yet another age of darkness. After Li Chang supposedly killed all Harry Potter, now nothing could stand in his master's way.

333

Not three hours later, in the remote peaks of the Himalaya mountain range, Kaili stood defiantly facing down his foe. His foe was a young boy about his age of Asian decent. Like him his opponent had his chest bared against the icy cold of the mountain, both stood in a ready combat stance. Behind both of them stood their respective masters.

Finally after some form of silent signal both boys charged forward violently. Their aura's flaring lightly around them. Kaili of course made the first attack, testing the water's so to speak; he sent three punched forward to gauge his opponent's reflexes. He was unsurprised when instead of blocking his opponent began to weave through the attacks, before lashing out with his own kick. Kaili seeing this leapt over the boy.

Landing behind him he lashed out with a kick of his own, yet unlike his opponents kick, this one possessed far more power and speed. His opponent could only tuck both his arms into his chest to lessen the over all damage. Still the force of Kaili's Chi-enhanced kick sent his opponent sliding along the snow bank on the plateau. After sliding for three feet his opponent found their ground, yet he knew no rest as Kaili charged forward.

Kaili's opponent ducked under one of his powerful kicks before countering with a quick uppercut to his chin, sending him into the air. Yet even this did little to stop him. The blow seemed dull in comparison with what he had learned to deal with when facing dragons. Twirling in the air he righted his fall, landing on his feet before leaping right back into the air.

Squinting at his now airborne foe, Kaili's opponent could hardly make out his shape, but what he could make out almost frightened him. With the sun on his back, his aura flaring around him, and his arms spread in the manner they were. He would have sworn that he saw a small dragon descending on him.

However before Kaili could finish his decent, a sudden wave of pain ripped through his body, centering on his scar. With a great roar of pain he suddenly halted his attack, clutching his forehead, before crashing to the ground. There he began to convulse as wave after wave of pain ripped through him.

"Kaili!" Li shouted in concern as his student crashed onto the ground.

"What is wrong with him?" Asked the elder monk that came near the young child.

"I do not know, this hasn't happened before." Li replied sharply before turning his sense's outward examining his disciple with his Chi-sense. What he felt was almost indescribable. A toxic cloud of magic, centered at his scar was being pulled from his disciple's body, and it looked like it was trying to take Kaili with it.

"Monk Feng I must ask that you open the gates for the temple." Li said as he retracted his senses.

"What, You know I cannot do this Li, your student must defeat one of our disciples before he is allowed to enter. You know this, no one who has not proved their worth may enter." Feng argued.

"No, he needs treatment, healing. So you can either open that gate so that I might tend to my son, or I will raze your temple to the ground and use the burning rubble to treat him." Li turned his eyes to the monk, and for that instant Feng saw much the same thing as the young disciple with him, a dragon in place of a man.

"Very well, it is clear that your child and student would have won the match had it not been interrupted. You may enter with him." He said quickly, even as Li scooped up his disciple, and adoptive son before moving towards the temple.

"You saw it too?" The young monk asked his elder as the outsiders entered the temple.

"Yes." Feng answered, letting out a breath he was unaware of holding.

"What are they?"

"They like the monks of this temple are Artists of the highest caliber, yet they have taken a different route to achieve their abilities. They are men with the souls of dragons and practitioners of one of the oldest Arts." He answered tiredly as he began to move to the elevated warmth of the temple.

"Are they dangerous?"

"Only if you cross them, only if you cross them"

333

Far to the west, in a remote location hidden by wards, Tom Marvolo Riddle, the resurrected Dark Lord Voldemort, lay gasping for breath. He had not expected for his resurrection to be so painful. Nor had he expected for the fragments of his divided soul to suddenly start to flow towards him.

He had never expected for the magic that surrounded his anchors to the mortal realm to react in such a manner to the elixir of life. But in a way it made a sense to his twisted mind. After his entire meager attempt at immortality couldn't hope to stand in comparison to the real thing. So of course he would be made whole in order to become a true immortal. Yet he found himself slightly off put when he sensed a seventh fraction of his soul start to reenter his body. He had thought that fraction lost when his spell reflected back at him, yet here it was, back again. What was stranger was the knowledge it seemed to bring with it. Knowledge of combat with his bare hands and feet, of battling dragons, and finally an over whelming pride in this Art.

It confused him vastly as the knowledge was absorbed into him before fading to the back of his mind. It would have to wait for another time. His resurrection had left him weak. It would be quite a long time before he was at the same level he was before his 'death'.

After all he had to learn to walk and talk again first.

333

(Six Years after Harry's disappearance)

Dudley looked out at London with a cocky grin plastered across his face. He was finally back, and nothing would stop him from making a name for himself now. After training under Song for years he had become a finely honed instrument of combat, and he was ready to be released on the world.

In truth that was exactly why Song had laxed on his training recently. It wasn't that he had nothing left to teach Dudley. Rather it was that he felt that he needed some experience in the real nitty gritty of the world. And that meant becoming a street fighter for a time. That was what happened to him after all. His teacher had let Song pick any city in the world for him to fight in. He had of course picked his home city of Hong Kong. From there he had made a name for himself as a street fighter first, and then they had started to come out of the wood works. Ki and Chi-adepts of all sorts had gathered in Hong Kong and it for a time was home to the site of logic defying feats of martial arts.

London would now bear witness to the same thing.

Soon Dudley took off into the streets, leaving Song to grin like a maniac. If his boy setting of the next convergence of Adepts didn't bring Li and his student running, nothing would. Besides them causing all this trouble in London was bound to piss off the wand waving mages to no end, something he took a great amount of pleasure in.

333

It was two months after Dudley had been released into the streets of London that word began to spread. A blond haired demon walked the streets of London. He had quickly taken control of one of the minor street groups and had since then formed a band of renegade street fighters. It became mandatory that all members of his group at least learned some aspect of the Art. Soon after that they began to dominate every other group on the street.

Word had spread that his skin was as hard as steel, that he could move like the wind, and that was as strong as ten men. Word quickly spread out of the small island and into the surrounding countries of Europe. Attracting the attention of several old groups of warriors in Italy that were quickly falling into obscurity, from there it spread throughout Asian and Africa, attracting the attention of many Adepts hidden in remote locations.

It was in these two months that Kaili and Li and heard of 'The Berserker' as he had been dubbed. His description quickly catching Li's interest, it sounded to the old master. Almost exactly like when he first met-

"Kaili, we're returning to England." Li stated suddenly.

"We are?" He asked in confusion.

"Of course, this Berserker that the rumors are speaking of, I believe that he is the student of Song Si." Li replied.

"Really now, well this should be interesting, I have been wanting to go back, see if I can find my cousin." Kaili stated with a wicked grin on his face.

"There will be time enough for that, though you can expect many strong opponents to appear, it has been sixty-six years, but I will bet my life on it. This is going to be the twenty-third martial arts convergence." Li said, practically glowing with anticipation, a grin that was matched by his adoptive son.

"Well come on pops, what are we waiting for. It's time to see what's the big deal about these convergences you keep telling, me about."

333

(6.5 years after Harry's disappearance)

Kaili gazed at his foe, the infamous Berserker. But that wasn't what he knew the young man as. No he had known him far too long to use such a nickname for him.

"Long-time-no-see Dud'."

"Harry."

333

(Seven years after Harry's disappearance)

Cedric Diggory glanced around cautiously as he entered the grove were the cup lay. He had fought tooth and nail to get here, and he would be damned if he didn't win this tournament because he was careless. He was determined to win.

He really didn't care about the glory he would get from winning for Hogwarts, or even the thousand Galleons he'd get. No the reason he wanted to win was to further his career. He wanted to be an Auror, and what looked better on a dark wizard hunter's resume than being the champion of a tournament that could have gotten him killed.

And right now the world needed every wizard they could get. And it wasn't because You-Know-Who was back like the headmaster kept saying year after year. No it was because the sudden influx of dark creatures entering London. Vampires of every clan had been spotted in London by patrolling Auror's. Not to mention all the werewolves. Even half-giants and half-trolls were making there way to London. And it wasn't just them.

Seemingly every kind of supernatural creature was heading to London, Pixies, Fairies, and Doxies were being spotted by muggles on an almost daily basis. True trolls had been spotted in the sewers, a herd of Centaur was reported taking up residence in one of the parks, and even the goblins of Gringotts were leaving the sanctuary of the bank for the streets on the muggle side. It was the biggest mess in history!

What was stranger and worse still, people possessing powers unheard of in even the wizarding world were appearing in London. He had heard from a few of the muggle born students that these people participated in epic battles across London, and they didn't even use wands. Almost each and every one of them used their bare hands. A few used weapons like staves and swords, but not like a wizard would, not as a focus, but as a true weapon. The scariest piece of news however came when an Auror reported that Li Chang had reappeared and been spotted in a crowd.

If ever the ministry needed new blood to fill out their ranks in the Auror corps, it was now when the Boy-Who-Lived's killer had reemerged.

333

(Eight years after Harry's Disappearance)

Hermione was for once in her life running very late. Which almost never happened. Ever since she had nearly been crushed to death by a rampaging troll she had never been late to anything. No matter how she felt, how sick she was or how tired, she always was where she was supposed to be. Her almost dying had all been because she wasn't where she was supposed to be. If not for the pink hair girl and a few other Hufflepuffs, she was sure that she would be dead.

But now because her father had taken to becoming over cautious at the reports of what Hermione thought of as the Muggle world news mimicking the Wizarding world's news. Honestly it was impossible for even wizards to do some of the things that she had heard being reported.

However upon entering Kings Cross her attention was immediately distracted from heading to the train. Now knowing Hermione one could expect her source of distraction to be one of a very few things, ranging from books to documentaries. However what had caught her attention now was neither of those. What she and several dozen people around her were looking at right now was a boy.

Though it wasn't because he was attractive that she found herself staring, not that he wasn't attractive. The young man was tall and very well built from what she could tell. He had lustrous, yet incredibly messy black hair that was being kept in some minor form of check by a black headband that he wore. His skin was a healthy tan and covered by a pair of faded blue jeans and a green shirt. His eyes were closed at the moment and she would bet galleons to rubies that they were just as beautiful as he was.

Yet this was not why they stared, it was because he was juggling. Yet it was not the simple juggling many would see at circuses, or even the almost deadly art of juggling knives or even chain saws. He juggled at twelve normal rubber balls in the air, what caused them to truly stare was how he juggled them. In a sense you could say he danced, but Hermione recognized quickly exactly what kind of dance he performed. He moved through a kata and every time he extended his leg or fist, a ball would hit it at just the right spot to bounce right back up into the air. Other times he would flat out punch or kick the ball, only for it to bounce off of something and return to him. All of this done while his eyes were closed.

Hermione idly noticed that she wasn't the only Hogwarts student to stop and stare at the strange boy. Some of them stopped to wonder what he was doing, others to admire him, both for his fluid skill and shocking beauty. Yet As Hermione finally noticed the open box on the floor next to him, she saw what could only be called the grand-finale. In an instant the boy leapt into the air, lashing out quickly, each strike hitting a ball and sending it flying through the air before he landed in a crouch, both arms extended to the side. As she was wondering what the point of such an action was, Hermione and every other watcher was shocked when the balls started to land on him perfectly. Four landed on each arm, three more across his back, and the final landed neatly on the back of his head.

Just when Hermione and the rest of the crowd thought that it couldn't get any better he jerked upwards, sending the balls uniformly into the air, before he himself once more leapt into the air. Faster than she could really track with her eyes the young man swept his right arm along the uniform line of balls and suddenly they were gone, leaving him standing still in a crouch in the middle of Kings Cross. Slowly he stood once more, before opening his eyes to reveal glittering emeralds for the entire world to see, his lips tracing up wards in a confident smirk. At that moment Hermione would forever swear that she actually heard several women and girls gasp in shock. She would however never mention that she had been one of them.

Finally after staring at the young man a few seconds longer, she managed to shake herself from her stupor and moved forward to leave him some money. At first she had intended to give him the few pound notes she had left in her pocket, but his finish along with his eyes made her feel like he deserved a little bit more, and what better to give the most amazing street performer she had ever seen than a few solid gold coins.

Upon reaching the box she saw that she was not the only one to have such a thought, as already there were several gold and silver coins stacked into his already quite full collection box. As she dropped the coins into the box she momentarily caught the mystery boys eyes, they seemed to sparkle with some hidden knowledge and mirth as he took her in. Idly she wondered what her life could have been like had this young man been born magical and attended Hogwarts with her, maybe she would have actually had more friends outside of Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom. Not that there was anything wrong with them, but this young man before her seemed almost out of place in such a mundane setting.

"Ganxie shenqi nuhai." He suddenly said, startling her.

As she walked away from the strange boy, once more beginning his show, she could only focus on the words he said to her. She had no clue what they meant other than it being Chinese. She could tell from his voice however that he was both equal parts amused and grateful.

Her train of thought so distracting her she failed to notice his eyes follow her as she entered the secret platform.

333

Kaili just couldn't believe his luck. He had been back in London some two years now, and most everything was too weird to just be coincidence or dumb luck. His cousin being taken as Song's apprentice, the opponents that kept on appearing everywhere to challenge him and Dudley, and now this. The day he chose to take a little break and do a bit of street performing, he does it on the secret entrance to the Mages school train. Judging by the amount of coins that had begun to pile up in his collection box he was sure that most probably had never seen anything quite like his performance. All the same it only led to him having pawnable solid gold and silver coins, this would certainly show Dudley and Song that his hobby wasn't useless.

"You! Prepare to be defeated!" Speaking of one of those particular annoyances.

Kaili jumped back just as his cousin's fist impacted with the ground he was standing on before hand. Lucky for him he did too; his cousin's Ki-laced fist's had enough juice in them to match the force of a moving truck. As the blow destroyed the area Kaili was already moving in for the counter strike. Using his Chi Kaili gathered the twelve balls he had previously used to entertain and firing them at rapid succession at his cousin.

However this only proved to stall Dudley as he soon found his cousin rapidly charging him upon landing. Using the reflexes he'd spent over half his life refining, Kaili ducked under and around his cousin before lashing out with a quick succession of attacks. Yet he saw that he was not the only one who honed their abilities.

Quickly Dudley was able to pull out of his charge and block most of the incoming attacks. The two punches that did get through however were quite painful, he made sure to repay the deed in kind when he lashed out with his own succession of attacks. Each of which had the ability to shatter boulders. Yet Kaili moved fast and managed to block or dodge most of them, but Dudley knew that the attacks that his cousin blocked would leave bruises all along his arms.

Jumping away from his juggernaut of a cousin Kaili gazed at the young man his cousin had become. No longer was he the hefty little pig in a wig. He stood a little taller than he himself did, putting his cousin at five foot eleven. His blue eyes were no longer the small beady things they once were. His dirty blond locks were cut short and spiked up with gel. He was currently wearing a pair of khaki shorts that ended at the knee, as well as a white tank top underneath a blue denim jacket. Unlike Kaili's body that seemed to hide his true strength, Dudley looked almost every bit as strong as he really was, though both he and Kaili were nowhere near looking like any kind of body builder.

Kaili could only smile as his cousin once more charged at him, only this time the charge was punctuated by a shout.

"Harry!" His cousin shouted as he loosed a punch at him.

"How many times have I told you in the past two years, my name isn't Harry any more, it's Kaili. Say it with me now, Kai-Li." Kaili bantered as he deflected a punch before throwing a sharp kick. Dudley was forced to use both arms to block the blow as it moved towards him at vicious speeds. The impact almost sent him skidding back like so many others before him, but he wasn't like the others, and he would prove it.

"Would you cut it with that crap, no matter what you say, you'll always be the same old Harry." Dudley retorted back as he quickly lashed out, grabbing his cousin's leg as he had done oh so many years ago, throwing him to the side. Like many times before Kaili righted himself in the air before landing gracefully in front on a pillar that divided platforms nine from ten.

"Well if that's the case, then I guess you'll always be ickle dudders to me." Kaili taunted with a sickly baby voice.

"You'll pay for that you bastard!" Dudley shouted before launching himself at his cousin.

As was the custom to such attack Kaili jumped backwards. However as many would have believed this would have ended with him crashing into the pillar, it would not be the case. Instead he seemed to just vanish into the pillar soon followed by his charging cousin. The spectators could only gape in surprise as both boys disappeared.

At first Kaili didn't even know he had crossed the hidden barrier to platform 9 and 3/4. He had merely followed his instincts in battle and jumped away from his charging cousin. As his instincts told him there was nothing solid behind him, he followed what came easy. However when his surroundings lost the drab dark feel of Kings Cross, only to be replaced with the feeling of contained power in the air, Kaili quickly realized something was wrong.

However this was quickly forgotten as his cousin charged straight through the gateway right after him. With a savage shout his cousin sent a right straight aimed for his chest. Kaili however had no intention of being hit by such a blow. Twirling in the air, he managed to land his hand on his cousin's right shoulder before pushing himself higher in the air. All the while pushing his cousin forward.

Dudley's fist connected with a wall, shattering it, while Kaili remained air born for a few seconds longer. Using this new opportunity Kaili lashed out with Chi, firing a bolt of pure energy at his cousin. Upon contact with his cousin there was yet another small explosion as smoke obscured Kaili's vision. Landing gracefully he continued eyeing the smoke, ignoring the looks of the startled Hogwarts students and their parents.

He didn't have long to wait as a figure blurred out of the smoke, landing a solid left hook on his jaw and sending him flying back until he impacted against a cherry red train car. Recovering quickly he noted that his cousin's skin tone had darkened considerably.

"Using the **Tie-pi** so soon already?" He asked.

"I could say the same thing about you and the Chi-blasts."

"Well one must do what they must to keep the battle interesting." Kaili replied before charging forward again. Quickly he feinted a left, hoping his cousin would block it. As was usual he did, leaving his chest open for an attack. Though in his current state few could even put a dent in him as his skin became akin to solid steel. Kaili happened to be one of those few.

Lashing out with his right leg he caught his cousin in the chest with a blow that could have felled most men. Yet as Dudley tried to lash out in counter, Kaili seemed to just disappear. Right before reappearing on his right and delivering a sound left hook to Dudley's face. Then Kaili appeared at his left giving him a knee to the stomach. Kaili appeared again on his right, this time delivering a staggering right straight. Behind him next with a spinning back kick that sent him tumbling forward. Next Kaili was in front of him, kicking him into the air with a kick laced with a fair amount of Chi. Finally Kaili appeared above him as he was sent into the air, delivering the final blow with an axe kick in this deadly combo. The kick was punctuated more so as Kaili channeled enough Chi into his leg that when it made contact with his back it produced a small explosion.

As Dudley was sent harshly back down to the ground with enough force to create another small crater upon impact, Kaili merely disappeared again before appearing right were he had been before launching the deadly combo. Still in a ready stance he regarded the new hole he had made. That was until a Ki-laced fist rose from the hole and slammed into the ground, creating a small shock wave that forced Kaili off his feet. Then from the hole charged an angered Dudley, showing all how he gained his nickname.

Grabbing his stunned opponent by the shirt collar, Dudley swung Kaili much like one would swing a club. Slamming him into the train before punching him in the gut with his free left hand. As he was about to bring his fist back for yet another blow Kaili's legs lashed out, hitting him in the face, causing him to drop his foe. But he was far from done with the smaller martial artist. Recovering quickly with a spin, Dudley added momentum and force to a powerful right straight that sent Kaili clear through the train, and onto the other side of the platform

Rolling on the ground as he recovered from the powerful blow, Kaili sprung to his feet. Just as Dudley leapt clear over the train. Backpedaling before he could be struck by the savage blow his cousin was no doubt trying to inflict upon his head, Kaili was able to clear the ground just as Dudley impacted with it, sending yet another shockwave through the platform.

Landing lightly away from his opponent and rival, Kaili could only look impassively at eyes that equaled his in all ways.

"Guess we got to take this to the next level." He sighed before beginning to gather his power, his eyes beginning to glow with power.

"Is there any other way to fight?" Dudley asked with a near manic grin on his face as his hair stood even more on end.

Both just stood there for what seemed the longest time. Then with no clear signal they leapt at one another, firsts cocked back and ready to deliver pain upon the other. Yet before they could reach one another they were forced to pull back as a massive barrage of multi colored energy bolts flew in their direction.

Kaili as the more agile of the two was able to duck and weave his way through the massive barrage of magic. Dudley however was forced to fend for himself. Luckily he had long since learned that his **Tie-pi** worked almost like a shield to most forms of magic. Many of the bolts just bounced off of him. As Kaili landed both he and Dudley turned to those that would dare to interrupt them. What they saw was in some part comical.

There standing with wands drawn were several dozen students, ranging in age from thirteen to seventeen. Beside them were several adults whose wands were also brandished menacingly. Yet what almost made Kaili laugh was the girl that stood at the head of small army. He could have recognized her anywhere, her straight black hair, her skin tone, and her black eyes. Standing before him was the niece of his adoptive father.

Cho Chang.

333

Tei-Pi: Iron Skin

Ganxie shenqi nuhai: Thanks magic girl

Fiori: Hello readers and welcome to the next chapter of Oriental Philosophy I'm really touched that I received so many reviews for just the first chapter, Guess I won't be shooting Cedric.

Cedric: But you said you weren't going to anyway.

Fiori: no I said I wasn't going to _threaten_ to shoot you.

Cedric: But-

Fiori: Quiet now, on to a few answers. For all of you who guessed that the girl in the park was Tonks, congrats you were right, have a muffin. For those that guessed that Li wasn't evil, good for you. For those of you confused by Tonks's lack of action, guess what, She's a child. One who's being assaulted by muggle's and really doesn't want to be expelled. She isn't the warrior she will be yet so when confronted with what she was she went into shock. It happens people.

This shall be the norm now since I feel the AN's should not be at the start of _this _story. Now review or I shoot Cedric.

Cedric: now you're threatening me.

Fiori: Yes, yes I am.

Cedirc: Di-

*Bang*

Cedirc: Ah god my leg, You Bastard


	3. Birth of the Redsun

Fiori: hello fans and readers, usually I would not be doing this but I feel I must to address an issue that popped up in the last chapter, one that was a misunderstanding.

Moldyshorts does _not _have Harry's martial arts skills, he has the knowledge but his body is incapable of doing it. Many of you assumed that since his mind knew how then his body did as well, I blame the Matrix for this poor assumption.

Also many of you flamed since I changed Harry's name, and while in narration he shall be referred to as Harry again, know that I welcome you flames since it means I have succeeded in pissing you off.

**Bang**

Cedric: Damn it why!

Fiori: Blame the Flamers

I don't own Harry potter

Harry Potter and the Oriental Philosophy

Chapter Three: Birth of the Redsun

_"Anything and everything is possible, it only takes the hard work and dedication to the goal to be achieved." –Code of the martial artist_

September 1, 1995, 10:35 a.m.

Kaili, or Harry as he had once been called, along with his cousin, Dudley, stood on the hidden train platform of the mages. Both of them were still ready to move and attack should the interlopers let loose yet more magic. Both of them eyed the assembled mages wearily, though from what Harry could see Dudley was quite annoyed over the interruption.

From what Harry could tell of the mages that had assembled to halt he and Dudley's progress, most had probably never seen an actual fight, much less been in one. Though it could be that the unguarded stances they all held was due to the fact that they didn't actually use their hands to fight, only relying on magic to both attack and defend. He couldn't be sure.

However it was Cho Chang that had most of his attention. The young woman stared at him and Dudley with rapt attention. Her eyes betrayed both a small hint of recognition, as well as anger. He could also see something else in those eyes, yet what it was he could not be sure. But from what he knew of her uncle, she probably wished to defend those on the platform. After all, all she really knew about he and Dudley would be from what she had seen them do.

"What the hell do you assholes want?" Dudley growled in annoyance.

"Silence, Muggle scum, you do well to know who your betters are!" A young man with almost silvery hair ordered with arrogance and bluster.

"Right, like you're so much better than me." Dudley growled out.

"I am. As is each and every person here, despite some _taint_, every single one of us has more power than your feeble mind can even attempt to comprehend Muggle." The blond sneered.

"Really now?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"You mock me?"

"Yeah we do, can you chuck boulders at people?" Dudley asked seriously.

"A simple matter with my power," He answered.

"How heavy a boulder?" Dudley asked again.

"Easily twice my size."

"How far can you throw it?"

"A good hundred yards."

"Now one last question, do you do all this by yourself or do you use magic to cheat?" Dudley asked with a wicked toothy grin.

"Wai-, what?" Someone asked.

"I asked if you can pick up a boulder with your own two hands and throw it as far as you can, watching as it sails further away from you with each try. No magic involved at all, just you and your muscles struggling to become the very best you can be!" Dudley answered passionately.

"Go easy on them, man, not everyone can do that." Harry admonished.

"Name one person we know who couldn't!" His cousin demanded.

"Well, everyone we know is an Adept or not human so… I'll have to get back to you on that one." Harry admitted sheepishly. He really couldn't name one person he personally knew who couldn't at least try to do as his cousin described. Ever since he and his cousin had entered London for The Convergence, more and more Adepts had shown up. Though not all of them were at the same level as himself and Dudley, there wasn't a single one that wouldn't at least attempt what Dudley had suggested.

"How do you know about magic?" A startled voice asked in shock. Turning away from his thoughts, Harry saw it to be the same bushy haired girl he had taken notice of earlier.

"_Nihoa shenqi nuhai_." Harry said with a smile.

"Please, you mages think that you and your magic is such a big secret. Give me a break." Dudley said casually ignoring Harry.

"How—Do—You—Know?" She repeated, rage mixing in with confusion.

"We just do. After all the things my cousin and I have been through, magic was no big surprise. What is a surprise is how many people actually know about your little _secret world_." was Dudley's disgruntled answer.

"How many people have you told?" The bushy haired girl asked suddenly fearfully again, yet she was completely misinterpreting what he had said.

"That's a se-cr-et." Dudley said mischievously, doing nothing to correct her assumption.

"Shut up, this is pointless. Who told you about magic and how did you breach the wards around this station? Did someone assist you?" Cho interrupted before things could get too off topic. Yet she was completely surprised when both boys only looked at each other in confusion before blinking twice.

"There are wards here?" They both asked at the same time.

"What did you think the force trying to keep you out was?" Cho asked angrily.

"Didn't feel a thing," Harry answered with a shrug.

"Yeah, usually when we rip through a ward, there's at least some resistance. Least it was that way in China." Dudley commented.

"And Taiwan." Harry added.

"And Korea,"

"India,"

"Japan,"

"Pretty much all over Asia, but I didn't feel a thing around here." Dudley finished.

"You think it means we're getting better?" Harry asked.

"Nah, it probably means that the mages here are the laziest slobs on earth. Yet more proof that their way of sloth can never beat good old hard work." Dudley answered arrogantly.

"All the things you've said, why are you two so familiar with wards and magic?" Cho asked dangerously.

"Course we're familiar with it. Can't swing a cat without running into some mage who thinks he's a god amongst men. Well I got news for you fuckers. Magic is the way of the cheater. From what I've seen most people with magic lose both their work ethic and their common sense. 'Hey I need to do the dishes,' magic. 'I need new clothes,' magic. 'I need to go somewhere,' magic. Any time you have a problem, you magic your way out of it. Never doing anything but taking the easiest path. Then there are your oh-so-prestigious purebloods who couldn't even bother to do that. No, instead they'll just use their indentured servants to do all the work as they sit about getting fat and lazy counting their god damned money!" Dudley ranted angrily.

"You know nothing of our ways Muggle trash!" Shouted one of the gathered students.

"Yeah, probably not. But I know enough to brush past any of the shit you try to pull, such as your precious 'wards.' Him and me have been breaking through wards for years. You need to at least be proficient about that if you're going to have a talk with any of the _real_ masters. Especially Li. That guy sends people through more tests than anyone else I know. Always something new, and while it may be fun some of the things he does are borderline homicidal. How this idiot survived him, I'll never know." Dudley explained while pointing to Harry, completely missing the widening of Cho's eyes.

"It's a gift, Li may be hard on people, but one can learn quite a lot from him." Harry answered honestly.

"Yeah, even if you both are cheaters." Dudley nodded sagely, right before Harry's fist connected with the back of his head.

"Asshole, you know that we both work just as hard as you do!" Harry growled.

"Where is he?" Cho asked dangerously, distracting the two Adepts from the recent topic.

"Where is who?" Harry asked. Tilting his head in confusion at the sudden question.

"WHERE IS LI CHANG!" She shouted angrily.

"Cho, what are you talking about?" One of the other students asked, startled by her outburst.

"The things they were doing, the way they fought. Their knowledge of magic, I only know one man who could have possibly taught them, and they both just mentioned that bastard's name. Now tell me where he is!" Cho hissed out.

"Wow, what did your uncle ever do to piss you off so much?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. Completely ignoring the shocked looks appearing on the faces of the students surrounding Cho.

"He's your uncle? I thought it was just a coincidence you both had the same last name." A student whispered as he took a step away from Cho.

"That monster is not my uncle! He's a coldblooded killer who revels in death and killing innocent people!" She shouted back.

"Really now, is that what you've been told? See, I would have thought that killing someone in a war was kind of different than killing an innocent civilian." Harry shot back.

"You would dare compare a Death-eater to an Auror? You make me sick!" A tall redheaded boy shouted in rage, drawing Harry's attention.

"Never compare a man worthy of my respect with those scum!" He growled, not even bothering to contain the amount of rage that had been brought to the fore by the mage's careless comment. Had he cared enough to notice he would have realized that his aura had begun to leak out. To the eyes of all present mages, a slight flicker formed around him, briefly taking the form of a dragon before fading away as Harry regained his calm.

"You would really defend a known killer?" The bushy haired girl asked meekly despite the fear she now had of the boy in front of her.

"I don't know what shit they've been spoon feeding the lot of you, but fighting men who torture and kill for pleasure does not make one a murderer. From what I know, the only people Li killed were men wearing silver masks and black robes. But if your society is so corrupt that you believe their lies, then so be it. At the very least, both Cho and I know just what sort of man he really is, even if she's lying to herself." Harry replied coldly.

"Bull-shit Li Chang is nothing but a monster! He killed The-Boy-Who-Lived, **Reducto!**" Shouted a random face from the crowd of students. All that really could be made out about the young man who sent the spell was that he was garbed in red.

All of the students present watched the bolt of magic sore through the air, directly towards the ebon haired youth's head. Harry in turn made no motion to block or even dodge. His face was deathly still as the bolt of magic soared towards him. Then finally when the spell was mere inches from connecting, he tilted his head ever so slightly to the right, cracking his neck as he did so. The spell passed him by, and he didn't even spare the bolt another look as it continued its path.

"So, it would seem that reason has no place here." Harry said dangerously as he finished cracking his neck.

"I already said it, no common sense. They have _magic_." Dudley mocked as he cracked his knuckles.

"You would think to fight us, with just your hands. How barbaric and utterly pointless." The blond huffed arrogantly.

"You would say that after watching us tear the station apart _barehanded_?" asked Harry's voice from within the crowd of students.

Jumping fearfully the assembled students turned inwards to look as one of their own collapsed limply on the ground. Harry stood over him, his hand still extended from where he had stricken his foe's neck. Yet it was not this that brought the most fear to the assembled students. It was the fact that he appeared to be in two places at once.

"How did you...?" Cho asked fearfully as she turned between him and his image next to the train. She nearly jumped out of her skin as the image of him by the train slowly started to fade into nothingness. "An illusion?" She questioned in confusion.

"No, far more simple than that." Dudley answered, happily from his place amongst the mages.

"When did you- oomph!" Grunted a student before Dudley's fist connected with their gut, sending him flying into another mage, disabling the both of them.

"What we just did was move so fast we left an image in our place." Dudley finished with a feral grin.

"Take care, Berserker, they aren't as durable as us." Harry said as he positioned himself behind Dudley. His cousin in turn only spared him a raised eyebrow for the use of his nickname.

"Whatever Hermit, that's two on my count. You've still only taken one down." Dudley responded.

"Guess I'll just have to change that then." Harry replied lightly.

"What the hell are you two?" One of the students asked in horror.

"My cousin and I are Artists beyond the level of comprehension." Harry replied coldly.

"And you dumb-asses just happened to get in the way of our fight!" Dudley shouted in a voice more feral and animal like than human. It was on that cue that both Adepts charged forward into the ranks of startled and fearful opponents.

Moving at speeds his opponents could barely comprehend Harry lashed out with his right leg, hitting one of the mages squarely in the temple. Quickly brushing past them as they flew to the side, Harry didn't even spare the downed form a second glance as he moved onto his next target. This one however had managed to gain enough of their wits back to actually begin casting a spell at him.

Harry's hand blurred as he caught the mage's wrist before twirling into his foe, forcing their arm, and by extension their wand, to face a new target. Right as his foe had finished incanting the name of the spell, Harry had masterfully sent it flying towards another student. As he elbowed the boy he just grappled in the stomach, he idly noted that that particular spell caused a foe to be rendered unconscious if it connected. He would have to consider that when faced with the decision on whether he should let that spell hit or not.

Moving quickly he jumped away from the foe he had just felled, expecting another rain of spells to be fired at him as the mages had done when they first started this confrontation. However Harry only saw discord amongst the gathered students, many were scrambling to get to positions of cover so they could lob spells at himself and Dudley. Yet none of them stood together, as if they were weary of each other, despite the fact that they had two incredibly strong foes bearing down on them.

_'Guess what Song and Dudley say is true, mages have no sense.'_ Harry thought to himself before charging towards the nearest adult mage. With a quick left straight to the man's gut followed by an open backhand to his face, another opponent fell to him. This brief scene was, sadly, repeated often as Harry charged one mage after another. Occasionally he would have to consciously evade a spell, but mostly the spells sent his way never had a chance of hitting him. Either he was already moving from the spot they had fired at, or their aim was off. Either way, this fight was getting old rather quickly.

It was at the exact moment that Harry had begun to grow bored that the situation changed. Not by much, but enough that he was forced to dodge madly, else he be hit with any number of unpleasant spells. While not entirely sure what some of the blots of magic might do, he had no desire to find out. Finishing his mad dance to avoid the barrage of spells, Harry's eyes turned towards the origin of the latest surprise of the day.

There in front of him was Cho, flanked by a total of twelve other mages. Most were students judging by the age, but he saw two adults amongst them. Studying them quickly Harry couldn't suppress the smirk that found its way across his face. Things were starting to get interesting.

"Is that it?" Harry asked casually.

"Stay close, watch each other's backs. Don't let up!" Cho shouted as she began to launch spells at him, those close to her in turn mimicked this behavior. The mages close enough to her began to draw together, forming a small wall of flesh. Knowing that closing in on them now would be more difficult and far more troublesome if he was going to hold back enough not to kill or permanently injure them, Harry was forced to jump away from his position and onto the red train.

"You're learning," He quipped happily.

"Shut-up!"Cho shouted before sending more spells his way.

With a smirk, Harry faded away from his position on top of the train, appearing just in time to see Dudley take down another opponent. Though it was the manner in which he did so that caused the small twitch in Harry's eye.

"I thought you said you were going to hold back?" Harry asked, irritation clear in his voice.

"I am holding back, I'm not using one of the benches as a club now, am I?" Dudley answered as he hefted his impromptu club over his shoulder.

"You know what never mind, the situation's changed." Harry sighed as he turned towards the small group of students. Which by now had already grown as what looked like more students joined them from the train, inspired by the sudden change.

"What do you mean changed, changed how?" Dudley asked in confusion, not even noticing the advancing group.

"Them!" Harry shouted before leaping away from the incoming barrage of magic. Dudley in turn finally took notice of the approaching group as the spells hurtled towards him. He quickly realized he had no way to dodge as he was already too close. Despite not having the ability to ignore the laws of nature like a Chi-Adept, the Tie-pi did enable him to deflect most magic off of himself. But doing so was actually quite the drain on his inner reserves of Ki. Happily however he happened to have a handy human-shaped shield.

Moving the already unconscious boy in front of him, Dudley did what he could to minimize the target his larger frame made him. His plan worked flawlessly as only a few bolts of magic bounced off of his hardened skin instead of the entire barrage that might have otherwise actually hit him. Eyes locked on the assembled group of students in a glare, he tossed the formerly blond annoyance away with only a brief glance. What he saw almost made him lose his focus as a fit of giggles threatened to overtake him.

What had once been a pale skinned silver-blond now had skin of deep purple. His hair had fallen away from his scalp as he was tossed to the ground. And to add to that, he had at some point grown a pair of rabbit ears and the tail of a squirrel. It was almost sad. Yet what caused him the most amusement were the bats flying out of his nose and the fact that his backside was now producing more light than most Christmas trees.

However despite his desire to start laughing, Dudley knew that now was not the place for such things. Pushing Ki to his limbs, Dudley dashed towards the nearest cover before the assembled mages could launch the next volley. Sliding behind a pillar Dudley spared a quick cursory glance back at the slowly growing group of combatants. As he expected, he was forced to pull his head back as yet more spells were sent his way.

"Well, this is lovely." He growled sarcastically.

"Isn't it," Harry agreed from beside him, Dudley barely spared him a glance as he appeared by his side.

"They just had to make it harder on us. We can't get that close to hit 'em while we're holding back. They'll pepper me with spells. And you, well, as soon as you take one down, you'll have milliseconds before you have to move or get hit with more multicolored light then that purple dude." Dudley nodded.

"Guess that means we'll have to work together a bit more than usual for this kind of situation." Harry said as he gazed at the mages.

"So what do you have in mind?" Dudley asked with a smirk as he saw the plan forming in his cousin's mind.

"It's simple really, now I need you to…"

333

Cho gazed cautiously at the pillar she knew the attackers had taken refuge behind. She was rather pleased with the fact that her plan had worked well enough to force them to retreat behind cover. Yet, if she was honest with herself, she was far more worried than she was pleased. She knew they were holding back, a lot. From what she had seen when they had been fighting each other, they could easily tear through them whenever they wanted. Add to that, the dark hared one, chiding the larger one for his use of strength, and a picture began to form within her mind.

What would they do now that they were backed into a corner?

It was as these doubts began to form in her mind that the duo made their move. A blur shot from behind the pillar before leaping into the air. Following as best as her eyes allowed, she saw the dark haired warrior descending upon them. It was in those moments she gazed upon him, preparing to take aim and loose a spell upon him, that the anxiety that had been building within her turned into full-blown terror, as time seemed to slow.

For as Hermit descended upon them, each and every single mage present would forever swear that it was no longer a young man bearing down on them. What they saw in his place was impossible, yet they all would swear he was not a man. He was a _dragon_, a dragon bearing down on all of them with fiery rage and feral intent. Before that day, not a single one of them had believed it was possible to be so afraid that death would be a sweet release. The dragon bearing down on them changed that. Yet it was more than just the monster bearing down on them.

Cho was really the only one to notice. The very air itself had become hard to breathe. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, and couldn't think. She was absolutely frozen in terror, and she would do anything to get away. Compared to what she was seeing now, death by the 'Hermit' and 'Berserker' seemed to be appealing. Anything she could do to escape this feeling of helplessness!

Little did she know that the dragon that Hermit had become was only a distraction.

333

The plan worked perfectly. It was never just about scaring them. Rather, Harry's stunt provided the perfect opportunity for Dudley to break up their ranks and momentum. Charging forward, Dudley delivered a solid blow to the platform, sending a shockwave rippling through the ground. As Harry's Killer Intent had paralyzed the mages, not a single mage was able to maintain their balance. It was then that both Harry and Dudley once more entered their ranks, attacking quickly and savagely. No longer were they apart in their struggle against the students. Both teens worked in tandem with the other.

Yet despite their renewed success in attacking the mages, fear also proved to be a powerful motivator. Soon once again spells were sent at them in quick succession. Yet it was no longer in the uniform blasts they had achieved under Cho's impromptu leadership. Dozens of magical bolts were fired off in haphazard and panicky bursts. Once more Harry was forced to dance madly through the storm of hexes. Dudley in turn was stretched to the max as he poured more of his Ki into the Tie-pi. Yet despite his energy depleting rapidly, he refused to back down.

"Berserker, things aren't looking too good, huh?" Harry asked during a momentary lull in the hasty barrage of magic.

"S-Speak f'r y'r self. I ain't weak like you!" Dudley roared as he blocked another blot of magic.

"Weak or no, we can't keep this up forever." Harry replied while dodging spells.

"Are you saying we run?" His cousin growled incredulously.

"I'm not happy about it either, but it's either that or you pass out and I have to drag your ass out." Harry shot back.

"But we can still win this!"

"True, we can beat the remaining students and attending parents. But what about the members of the mage's law enforcement that are doubtlessly on their way as we speak?" Harry asked seriously.

"Fine, Hermit, but we're having a rematch soon. And this time, I will win!" Dudley growled while attacking another mage.

"Bitch and brag all you want, but first we need an exit." Harry quipped.

"On it!" Dudley shouted.

"Wait wha-?"

Before Harry could actually register what his cousin meant, Dudley was already on the move. Thus he could only watch in horror as his cousin charged towards the nearest wall. He couldn't reach him in time to stop him either. With all the magic being fired at the pair of them, to faze in next to him would be stupid. All he could do was start moving to follow him.

Though he had to admit, watching Dudley tear through a wall protected both by a solid structure _and_ magic must have been quite intimidating for the mages.

"You really need to learn how to hold back, cousin." Harry sighed as the pair of them rushed out of the station.

"Shut up and book it!" Dudley replied as the duo left the station behind.

333

Chaos.

It was the only word she could think of that could adequately describe the scene that her eyes presented her as she finished Apparating onto platform 9 3/4. The memorable red train that had taken her to and from school was covered in dents and holes, including a single hole from one side to the other. The platform itself was in a similar condition, marred by the battle scars left from whatever conflict had occurred here. Yet the two things that stood out to Auror Nymphadora Tonks were the people and the gaping hole in the wall that physically separated the magical station from the Muggles.

While the hole was intimidating, it was the state of the people that was even more so. Dozens of people were strewn about the platform, many of them injured. Those that were conscious had a strange look about them. They had seen something, and it had terrified them beyond mere words. Whatever had attacked had left more wounds than just those that could be seen. She had no doubt that many of the people here would wake up screaming as the memories of this event assaulted them in their dreams.

"What happened here?" came a voice from her side. Turning, she saw the trainee that the corps had assigned to her. As trainees go, Cedric Diggory wasn't that bad, both skill wise and in looks. Yet, like many fresh into the corps he was still inexperienced to some of the true horrors that could occur in the world.

"What does it look like, cadet? The station was attacked!" She barked at him.

"But by what?" He asked, positive that the damage simply wasn't achievable by humans.

"That is what we're here to find out. Follow me." Tonks ordered as she began to march into the crowd. Already she could hear some of her colleagues questioning witnesses. Yet what she could hear made no sense. A dragon disguised as a human, a monster of a man ripping through steel and stone reinforced by magic? None of it made sense to her. While she may have been a witch and worked with a power beyond understanding, she knew that the things she was hearing were impossible. Yet with so many people swearing by Merlin that it had happened, she at least had to consider the possibility.

"Cho!" Her trainee shouted suddenly before moving to his left. Broken from her musings, Tonks turned after her companion to see him heading towards one of the many shell-shocked students.

"Cedric, what are you doing here? You graduated already." The girl stated, a slight detachment in her tone.

"Cho, I'm an Auror now. They already paired me off with a field officer." He stated calmly, motioning toward her.

Tonks in turn was studying the girl carefully. Aside from the information of race, apparent age, and probable relationship with her apprentice, it was the injuries that had her main focus. While the girl did show signs of being hit with a few minor battle hexes (such as a stinging hex), there was one largely visible injury that left her quite curious of the events to inflict it on her. Along the upper left side of her face was a huge splotch of messy purple not commonly found in the effects of direct spell contact. Though flying debris might have caused it, the injury didn't look to have been caused by a rock. What could have caused such an injury?

"Cho was it?" Tonks asked as she took a position by the injured girl. "What happened here?"

"They were so fast, so strong, we couldn't pin them down." The girl whispered, almost too quietly to be heard.

"Who? Who couldn't you pin down, Cho?" Cedric asked, confusion mixing with concern.

"They were _his_ students. There's no other way they could have done it without him teaching them." Despite being obviously concussed, the girl still managed to put a level of hatred and loathing into her voice.

"Whose students? Who attacked the station, girl? Was it Death-eaters?" Tonks asked, desperate for information.

"Hardly," came a cold voice directly behind the young Auror. Startled from the sudden presence behind her, the neon pink haired Auror lost her already questionable balance.

"Merlin's wrinklies, didn't anyone ever tell you not to sneak up on people?" Tonks growled as she sat up from her position on the floor to look at the man who had crept up on herself and her apprentice. The man in question was of a tall build, dressed in the customary grey robes of an Unspeakable. Despite the already obscuring quality of the cloak, Tonks could immediately spot that he also possessed a bit of muscle on him, strange for a wizard. Another odd thing was that unlike many of the Unspeakables she had met before, this man was not wearing the hood of his robe, nor did he hide his face behind a cowl. Thus she was able to tell that he had hair of deep burgundy, calculating green eyes, and an angular face.

"My apologies, I had not realized that an Auror would be so relaxed in a combat zone." The man said haughtily. Already he was doing more to damage himself in the feisty Auror's books.

"And I didn't realize that an attack upon the Hogwarts Express would require one of the Department of Mystery's spooks? Tell me, what mystery of magic could a dark wizard attack on a group of children unveil?" Tonks replied with no small amount of contempt.

"You make the mistake of thinking this was an ordinary attack. Even going so far as to believe in the drivel that old coot has been ranting about for years now." The Unspeakable replied, obviously making light of Dumbledore's claims that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned.

However this did strike a nerve in the young woman's heart. Despite her belief in the older man, it had been four years since he first announced that You-Know-Who had been resurrected. Yet in all the years that had passed, not a single thing had happened. No Dark Marks, no disappearances, nothing. It was only in the last year that there had been any kind of stir amongst the darker creatures. And even the current situation was unlike the Dark Lord's previous modus operandi. Yet she still wanted to trust the wizened Headmaster.

"Okay, pal, if not Death-eaters, than who or what attacked this place? What makes this any different than any other dark wizard attack?" She huffed out.

"The first fact being that the attackers appeared to have been Muggles. At least, that is what I have gathered from several witnesses."

"Muggles, but that's impossible! They couldn't cross the border unless they were with a witch or wizard." Cedric said in shock.

"Not Muggles; _his_ students," the concussed girl whispered as she began to rock back and forth, clutching her legs to herself.

"Yes, that was the next order of business before you interrupted me, learn your place, pup," The Unspeakable growled, anger creeping into his voice over such a small offense.

"And you would do well not to talk to an Auror in such a manner, mister…" Cedric growled back.

"I am an Unspeakable. It does you little good to know my name, so for now you may refer to me as Redsun. It would also do you well to know that compared to me, boy, you are but a speck. There is far more in this world than the position of one's friends and family." The newly christened Redsun hissed back, almost succeeding in cowing Tonks' apprentice.

"Stop grandstanding, you two; I am not impressed by it." The woman growled before whirling on her apprentice.

"Diggory, either shut-up or leave. This is a crime scene, as well as the site of a battle that has left many people injured. We're incredibly lucky no one was killed. Now grow up, the Aurors have no time for children." She ordered. Turning she saw the smirk on the face of the Unspeakable.

"And you can wipe that smirk off your face, Redsun," She said coldly.

"I'm sorry; what did you say, girl?" The man asked threateningly, Tonks wasn't impressed.

"I said 'you can wipe that god awful smirk off of your ugly mug!' As you should very well know, better than the pup, this is a crime scene. That makes it my Department's jurisdiction. Now you either tell me why you're here and what makes this attack so goddamn special that it requires the most arrogant Unspeakable your department has to offer, or Merlin help me I will have you locked in a cell with a pair of Dementors before the day is through!" She roared, not particularly in the mood for dealing with a posturing Unspeakable.

The very moment after snapping at him, Tonks knew she had trodden on the Unspeakable's pride. Insulting him and giving him orders all at once. Though she did not particularly care, after all she really did have more important things to do. Finally after it looked like he was ready to pull his wand on her, Redsun calmed and began again to answer her question.

"Very well, _Auror_, as this is your jurisdiction, I suppose I am capable of speaking of my work just this once."

"Get on with it, Redsun." She sighed in exasperation.

"As I have gathered from those who are lucid enough to give me an accurate account, the station was apparently infiltrated by two young men, who answered to the names 'Hermit' and 'Berserker'." Redsun answered flatly.

"What kind of names are those?" Cedric wondered aloud.

"Assume them to be titles or nicknames of a sort, but that's not important right now." Tonks answered before returning her attention to Redsun. "What did these two want? Why did they attack us?"

"Apparently, from what I gathered, they weren't really all that concerned with the students until they drew attention to themselves." Redsun answered, again in a flat even voice, devoid of all emotion.

"What do you mean by that?"

"To elaborate, the two fighters were, at first, locked in combat with each other, rather than the students and parents present on the platform. In fact I doubt the two of them would have paid them any attention had the students not attempted to detain them. Upon confronting them, several members of the crowd questioned them and provoked their hostilities. Thus the platform erupted into chaos as both intruders cooperated in their efforts to fend off the students." Redsun elaborated

"Wait, they were enemies, then why did they work together at all, students or not?" Cedric asked curiously.

"That is an excellent question. It is possible that they viewed a mob capable of hurling bolts of magic a bigger threat than each other. But that does leave the curious question of why they decided to duke it out here." Tonks mused.

"Competing for _his_ favor, not enemies, rivals." Cho murmured.

"Whose favor, Cho? _Who_ is it you keep talking about?" Cedric asked in concern.

"Ah yes, that." Redsun said, emotion finally creeping back into his voice.

"Stop with the mystery act and get on with it." Tonks ordered.

His eyes narrowing once more Redsun began to elaborate, "The reason I am here. Apparently during the period of time between when the students confronted them and when Hermit and Berserker actually began to attack, words were exchanged. Words that leave the distinct impression that one or both of the assailants have a rather close relationship with Britain's number one Undesirable."

"Li Chang." Tonks whispered as memories came unbidden to her mind. The mystery boy who saved her, who turned out to be the Boy-Who-Lived, Chang appearing and carting him off, and finally news that Harry Potter was most likely dead. It was that day that had guided her choices in life up until this very day. In fact, it was the entire reason she had become an Auror.

"Yes, Hermit apparently defended the man, claiming him not to be a murderer despite the evidence of the truth. I assume that Hermit at least has learned from Chang, perhaps Berserker as well. During the battle, both boys showed a remarkable grasp of wandless magic. Something that Chang is known for his proficiency in." Redsun replied.

"Wait, boys?" Tonks suddenly asked.

"Yes, boys. From the physical descriptions I've been given, neither of them could be over sixteen." He answered.

"Perfect, just fucking perfect." Tonks mumbled angrily.

"But that doesn't explain why you're here." Cedric suddenly said, pointing directly at the Unspeakable.

"My work as an Unspeakable is not to be discussed. I have explained to you what I know of the attackers so that you may do your jobs. Now you shall let me do mine." Redsun replied hotly before turning to leave.

"No we won't. I told you once before, you're telling us why you're here. Leeway for your department be damned, we have two dark wizards trained by a man who could be compared to You-Know-Who in terms of power. Now I'm guessing that something they did here has piped your department's interests. What is it?" Tonks demanded.

"That is none of your concern!" hissed the Unspeakable.

"Like hell it isn't, if they did something to interesting enough to get your department to stick their overtly large collective noses into my department's business, then it was during their fight, which means you are withholding information that could save lives and are obstructing justice. Now talk!" She growled at the incredibly irritating man.

"As you wish. Berserker was seemingly immune to all spells that connected with him he used no shield charm, the spells merely bounced off of him. Hermit was seemingly able to turn himself into a dragon, an ability not seen in anyone save Merlin himself." Redsun growled angrily.

"Thank you, you're free to go now." Tonks replied flatly. With those words Redsun disappeared in a crack, not even bothering to walk away. She really didn't care; she knew his type, a pureblood from one of the lesser families who showed an extreme talent in magic. Thus he grew arrogant, prideful of his power. Yet because of the substandard position of his family, he probably would never ascend to a level of position that would be suitable to his ego. Thus they were rather short tempered and hostile to those around them. There were dozens in the Auror corps, as well as among the Hit-wizards.

"You probably could have handled that better, Nymphadora," chided a voice from behind her. Whirling around quickly, she was ready to hex whoever it was that had dared use her hated first name, only to come face to face with Albus Dumbledore himself.

"Don't call me that," she mumbled in embarrassment.

"My apologies, yet the truth remains. You should have handled that situation better. You have probably made an enemy today." Dumbledore replied sagely.

"Don't really care. There are more important things going on. I didn't have time to deal with an egotistical prick, and I wasn't about to ask nicely for information that can save lives in the future." Tonks replied.

"Yes, this matter is most disturbing indeed. I fear that something Dark is on the horizon." The headmaster sighed in agreement.

"What do you think it is, Headmaster?" Cedric asked curiously.

"I'm not sure my boy, I'm just not sure."

333

"God damn that pink-haired Auror bitch!" Redsun cursed as soon as he had arrived at his destination.

"Thinks she can order me around, we shall see. None of them know of my power." He spoke to himself as he pulled a small crystal from the depth of his robes.

The crystal was one of his inventions, based on the concept of a pensive but far more portable. The down side of this however was that it did not have the ability to project the memory as it happened. Instead it took snap shots, but in this case it was all he needed. As the crystal came to life, two images formed side by side, the small spectral images of Hermit and Berserker.

"Soon, your strength shall be mine, and then we shall see who is truly worthy of power and position in this world."

333

Dudley sat by his cousin on a small bench eating a hotdog to recover his strength. Once more it would be difficult for an outside observer to tell that the duo were bitter rivals that had fought each other countless times in ever escalating fights. Had the mages not interrupted them at the train station, there was no telling what could have happened as they battled it out. Maybe they could have disrupted the barrier to the point that mundanes took notice of the mages.

"You know, Dudley, that sad excuse for a fight was entirely your fault," Harry said calmly as he took another bite out of his own hotdog.

"How the hell was it my fault, Harry?" he asked hotly.

"Don't call me that, and it was your fault since you attacked me in the tube. If you had waited until I was in a more open environment we would have had a decent fight." His cousin replied slowly.

"Why the hell shouldn't I call you Harry? It's your name, no matter how many people you have calling you Kaili. Why the hell did you try changing it anyway?" Dudley asked, casually ignoring how he was correct about the previous fight.

"I changed it to hide." Harry replied.

"Hide, hide from what? You're an Adept, what do you have to hide from?" Dudley asked, genuinely curious.

"The magical world has some scary things in it, and for some reason or other, they are determined to make me their savior." Harry answered.

"So? Tell the mages to fuck off; you've got your own life. Still doesn't explain why you changed your name." Dudley said bluntly.

"I don't really have an attachment to my birth name, I never knew my parents and the only blood relatives I have are you and your mom."

"May she grow fat and ugly," Dudley interjected.

"I suppose if I knew more about them then I might have been more inclined to keep the name, but I don't. And truth is, it's easier to be Kaili. No one is looking for Kaili Wu; they're looking for Harry Potter. Even if they think I'm dead, if I go around telling mages I'm Kaili then the mages will overlook me as just another mundane." His cousin explained.

"Okay I can see that, but are you ever going to stop pretending?" Dudley asked.

"Maybe, it would be nice to go by my birth name again. But Harry Potter will be expected to go to school and obey the laws of the magical world. And I really don't want to wear a dress and wave a stick about. I like being Kaili Wu, the kick ass Adept who only has to listen to his heart and the wisdom of his sifu." Harry said happily.

"Alright, but I still won't call you Kaili. You'll always be Harry to me, at least." Dudley replied as he stood from the bench.

"Well, then I guess you'll always be _Dudders_ to me then." His cousin replied with a smirk.

"I'm sorry, what did you just call me?" Dudley asked in mock cheer.

"You heard me, _Dudders_." Harry smirked.

"You're asking for a beat down!" Dudley growled as his aura started to come to life.

"Bring it, blondie!" Harry replied, his own aura sparking to life around him.

Dudley glared at his cousin as their auras caused havoc on their immediate surroundings. Neither of them noticed that they had obliterated the bench they had recently sat upon, nor did they notice a plump hotdog sales man quietly leave with his stand. Both of them were on the verge of attacking. In fact, Dudley would have thrown a punch had a third voice not interrupted them.

"Well, I guess you are them, huh?" asked a feminine voice from his right.

Turning Dudley saw a girl looking at them. She was short compared to them, a modest five foot four, with a lithe and sinuous build. She had a modest sized bust, small B's if he had to guess. Her face was soft and pretty with light brown, almost golden, eyes. Her brown hair was short in the back, but her bangs were long enough to frame her face. If he had to describe her clothing, Dudley would have said punk. She wore black cargo pants with dark purple seams and highlights. Her shirt was an equally dark purple tank top that left her arms bear. All in all, Dudley would say she was quite pretty.

"What the hell do you want?" Dudley growled, not really caring for yet another interruption. Of course he didn't expect the light blow to the back of his head from his cousin.

"Now, be nice, Dudley," Harry chided. Dudley of course merely glared at him.

"What my cousin meant to ask was; who are you?" his cousin continued.

"Yeah, and why are you interrupting our fight?" He added.

"Sorry about that, but you are Kaili Wu and Dudley Si, the Hermit and Berserker respectively, right?" She asked.

The cousin's merely turned toward each other, blinking in confusion. Looking back to the mystery girl, Dudley extended his senses to try and get a read on her. Doubtlessly his cousin was doing the same. From what his Ki-sense could pick up, the girl didn't have much more Ki than average. Maybe a little more than normal, but in the end she was still a mundane. Yet she knew their names, the whole situation only served to pique his curiosity.

"Yeah, that's us. What do you want?" Dudley repeated.

"My name is Ashley Felix, and I'm here to challenge you." She answered confidently.

"Say wha?" both Dudley and Harry asked in confusion.

"Didn't you hear me? I'm here for a fight." She replied as she took a loose fighting stance.

"Oh, we heard you, we just don't comprehend." Harry muttered as he shook his head.

"Not much to understand. I'm here and I'm challenging, so either fight or run away like a little bitch." She replied.

"I'll take her." Dudley sighed as he began to walk toward the obviously insane girl.

"You sure, Dud? You don't really have a good track record of taking it easy on people." Harry asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure, I'll just give her a demonstration on how big the gap between an Adept and a mundane fighter is." Dudley replied as he took a completely open stance.

"I'm standing right here, asshole!" Ashley hissed.

"Listen, girly, you really don't have much of a shot on me or my cousin. So, I'll be nice and let you have the first shot, won't block or dodge or anything really. But if you attack, I will take you down when you're done." Dudley replied.

"You better take me seriously," The girl replied darkly.

"Then show me!" he shouted.

Ashley charged towards the motionless Dudley, ill-intent clear in her eyes. It was as she was charging that Dudley got his first inkling that all was not as it seemed. In an instant, her Ki fluctuated, becoming wild and incredibly potent. And then his world exploded in white-hot pain as her foot shot forward. Falling forward, he barely saw her follow up attack as she twirled and delivered a powerful kick to his chest, sending him flying back and head first into a lamppost. As he fell into unconsciousness, he could only question the absurdity of it all.

He, Dudley Si the Berserker, one of the best Adepts of his generation, had been taken down by a combination of a lucky shot and his own underestimation of his foe.

_'Song's gonna kill me when he hears about this.'_

333

Harry could only wince in sympathy for his cousin as Felix kicked him, though a part of him wanted to start laughing at the hilarity of it all. Even though the fact that a girl with barely any Ki or Chi was still strong enough to send the Berserker flying, really there was only one thing he could possibly say to the whole situation.

"Damn, I hope he can still have kids after that."

"Probably, after all you two are supposed to be inhumanly tough." Ashley replied as she turned her gaze towards him.

"Tough though we may be, but no man should get hit there. Especially with your level of strength." Harry replied as he put a hand to his chin in contemplation.

"Are you gonna fight or are you just gonna sit there and talk. I've proved I'm strong enough, haven't I, or are you just afraid?" She asked scathingly.

"Oh, I'll fight you. I'm just trying to figure something out before I do." Harry replied as he reviewed the facts.

"What's to figure out? You have an opponent who's strong enough to wail on the Berserker. Shouldn't that be enough for you, Hermit?" She asked.

"Oh, for some it would be," his voice sounded from behind her, causing her to jump and spin to face him in surprise.

"But there is more to this world than strength. You're no Adept, yet you possess the strength of one. So the question remains, what are you?" He asked plainly as he took a loose fighting stance.

"Guess you'll just have to wait for that answer." She smirked.

"I'm overcome by suspense. Come on then, show me your skill." He quipped.

Felix charged towards him lashing out with a quick right hook. Blocking it easily, Harry countered with a left straight. His foe proved to be as equally fast as she was strong. Twirling to her left, she avoided his attack before trying to land another blow on him. Using the momentum of her spin, she lashed out with a sweeping kick. Had he not faded away, he might very well have been struck. Appearing in the air behind her, Harry fired a blast of Chi at her. Swiftly his opponent flipped backwards, leaving his energy blast to strike the ground with a near-deafening bang.

"Pulling out the stops early, I see. Is it really that taxing to fight me?' She asked in mock sweetness.

"You put down my cousin, underestimating you would be stupid." Harry replied as he landed on the ground, trying once again to figure his newest foe out.

As he charged her and began to trade blows with her, he examined what he knew. She was _strong_, easily approaching equal to his cousin in terms of strength. Yet she used barely any Ki to enhance her abilities, other then what naturally went to the muscles in a fight. She was also fast, as fast as himself if he had to guess, and again her wild fluctuating Ki barely went to her muscles to enhance anything. Thus he had to conclude that she was naturally super human, but what could she possibly be to achieve such levels of strength and speed.

Breaking away from her, he concluded that in the end he was just going to have to beat her to find out. Either she revealed it during the fight or he beat her and asked her. In the end, all that mattered was the fight. And he would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying himself. Fighting this Ashley Felix so far was every bit as enjoyable as fighting his cousin.

Charging forward again, he attempted to sweep her legs out from under her, only to have her leap upward to avoid her strike. But he was just fine with that. Using the momentum from his leg sweep, he transferred the force to his right arm and rose upward in a devastating uppercut that connected soundly with her chin, sending her even higher into the air.

Leaping after her, Harry saw his opponent attempting to fix her fall so she could land on all fours. He had no intention of letting her. Lashing out with a spinning roundhouse, he connected with his foe's stomach and sent her crashing into the ground.

Yet as he began his decent, he felt another fluctuation within the girl's Ki. It had become even wilder than before, and he guessed that it she would quickly become an even fiercer opponent. As she rose from the indent in the ground caused by her violent landing, Harry could see a thin layer of brown fur along her arms, as well as clawed fingers. Her gaze rose to meet his, letting him see that her honey colored eyes had made a full transition into a predatory yellow.

"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty," He taunted humorously as he finally recognized the source of her strength.

"So, figured it out, have you?" She asked in a slightly more guttural voice.

"Well, your pelt is making it obvious that you're a lycanthrope. It was the attempt to land on all fours that makes it clear you're some kind of cat though." Harry nodded.

"So you scared human?" She asked dangerously.

"You wish." He replied as light coalesced in his eyes, turning them a solid glowing green.

Charging towards her, he left a blurring green trail as she in turn left a slight trail of dust as she charged him. When they were close enough, she lashed out at him with her claws, aiming to strike his chest. In a move similar to Hollywood special effects, Harry leaned back and let the claws breeze over him before bouncing forward with a quick right straight. His foe merely moved her head the bare minimum needed to dodge the blow. Ashley immediately countered with a vicious backhand to his face, sending him whirling into the air.

Twirling as he went, Harry transferred the force of her blow to his arm before launching a powerful bolt of Chi at her. But this time the speed was far greater than the previous bolt, add to that it was fired at near pointblank range and she had no way of dodging the attack. The resulting explosion sent both her and Harry reeling.

Hitting the ground hard, Harry did his best to roll with the landing, bleeding the momentum into the ground before coming to his knees to lock eyes with his foe. Once more, her Ki had fluctuated and become even wilder. By now, he guessed that any more would leave her fully transformed, and thus incapable of doing what she had to in order to win the fight. After all it would be much harder to hit him from all fours.

Gazing at her, he saw that every inch of her skin had become covered in thin brown fur, and her face had lengthened slightly, taking on a more feline appearance. He also saw that she was breathing heavily and that the arms holding her up were shaking lightly. Whether from an effort to control her instincts or from exhaustion he didn't know. Either way, this fight would have to end in the next few exchanged or she might very well lose control of herself. He had no idea how she had gained such a mastery over her own inner animal, but in the end he didn't really care. All it proved to him was that the magical world was full of shit, claiming that a Lycanthrope could never master their own inner beast was merely an excuse for a lack of effort to try.

"You're good, better than I ever thought you could be based on how easily I took out your cousin." She panted out.

"He made a mistake, went easy on you. If he knew at the start what you could do, it probably would have gone much differently." He replied as he rose from his kneeled position.

"I'd still have won." She replied confidently as she too rose.

"Maybe, but no matter what, you aren't winning this fight." He replied as he realized what he had to do to win the fight.

"You sure about that, Hermit? You're on your last legs." She panted out.

"Same for you, and I've got an ace up my sleeve yet." He smiled.

"Let's see it then." Ashley said as she prepped herself for whatever attack he pulled.

"I was going to unveil this against Dudley, but since you're at least his equal, I guess I can cut loose with it. Sorry if you die." Harry said softly as he gathered his power for his first original technique. His foe could only watch in mild interest as his emerald Chi gathered and coalesced in his hands, bathing them in a low green light. Seeing him make motions to charge his foe instead of staying idle began to charge him, her claws extended to lash out.

"Bring it Hermit!" She growled as she rushed forward to finish the fight.

"This ends now!" Harry shouted as he charged forward at max speed to meet her in the middle.

Ashley could only watch as he approached, eyes locked with his, occasionally shooting glances at his outstretched hands. She was strangely fascinated with the energy as it began to take shape around his hands, forming a glowing layer of razor sharp claws over Harry's hands.

In an instant they had passed one another and merely stood back-to-back, arms outstretched from their all or nothing strikes. For a moment neither moved, yet soon Harry's own injury began to take its toll, a large diagonal claw strike ran from his right shoulder to left hip. Yet even as he fell to his knees panting and doing his best to stay conscious, Ashley fell to the ground in a pained heap, a large gash torn in her left side. Neither attack was fatal to the combatants, yet this did nothing to stop the fact that the gashes hurt.

Doing his best to muscle past the pain, Harry slowly and unsteadily rose to his feet. With great care he approached his downed foe. From what he could see, she was still conscious, and was ever so slowly reverting to a full human form. Balefully, she looked up at him as he came to a halt by her head.

"What the hell was that?" She asked, pain evident in her tone.

"That was the **Yuu Zhua**." Harry replied as he lifted the injured girl up, supporting her weight as best he could as they began to hobble towards his downed cousin.

"English, karate kid," She said with as much fire as she could manage under the circumstances.

"Jade claw," He answered.

"It was pretty painful. How the hell was the big guy supposed to survive that? I only can because of what I am." She questioned curiously.

"He's tough," Harry said calmly.

"You're not going to tell me are you?" She asked flatly.

"Nope, his techniques his discretion." Harry replied happily as the pair sat down beside the unconscious Berserker.

"Okay then, how about telling me how you did that?" She asked as she moved onto a different subject.

"Again, not going to tell you," Harry replied.

"Well, why not? The other Adepts I've fought usually can't stop talking about their awesome moves, you and a handful of others are the only ones who are tightlipped about it. You don't even call out your techniques." She asked, genuinely curious as to his reasons.

"It's because we're smarter than the others, if you don't know how it works, you can't form a counter or copy it. As for not calling it out, well that just means you have no idea what I'm doing next." Harry smiled.

"Interesting, I shall have to remember that," said a calm, cold voice.

Whipping his head in the direction of the voice, Harry came face to face with what could only have been a mage. He was tall and wore grey obscuring robes, his hood was up, and thus Harry couldn't see his features. Yet one thing he could tell was the very feeling of menace coming from him. Harry didn't even have to extend his senses to know that this man meant him ill.

"Who the hell are you?" Harry asked with as much force as he could.

"Who I am is unimportant. All you need to know, Hermit, is that you are the key to my ascension. I must really thank that girl there, if not for her, than this would go much differently." The mage said coldly.

"The fuck are you babbling about?" Ashley asked in confusion.

"Ashley, can you move?" Harry asked seriously.

"What are you—?"

"Trying to be the hero, Hermit? How very noble of you. Though, you may be comforted in the knowledge that I shall not touch the filthy were-beast. I have no use for such vermin, your power however I am more than able to take." The mage said cruelly.

"Ashley, get out of here. I'll take care of this guy." Harry said as he struggled to his feet.

"But—"

"Just go! You're in no condition to fight." He ordered.

"Neither are you, I'll be fine," she lied.

Harry didn't really know if he could do anything against this foe at the moment. With both himself and Ashley as injured as they were, along with Dudley being out cold, things were not in his favor. Add to that the strange vibes he kept on getting from his newest foe and he wasn't sure he stood a chance of beating him at the moment. At the very least he knew he'd live, his foe's intention on that was at least clear. But he didn't trust him enough to let Ashley go.

"I'll—I'll get help." She muttered meekly as she turned and slowly hobbled away from the battlefield.

"So, how's this going to work?" Harry asked as he took up a loose stance.

"You have no chance of winning, Hermit. You barely have a quarter of your reserves, while I am still fresh as a daisy." The mage replied.

"And how the hell would you know that?" He asked cautiously.

"The same way you could tell that the girl barely had any Ki." The man said flatly.

"You're an Adept?" Harry asked in confusion.

"You could say that, but I digress, you and the Berserker will be coming with me, whether you like it or not." The man stated plainly.

"I'd like to see you try!" Harry roared as he charged the man, ignoring his protesting body.

With calculated ease, Harry began to throw punches at his opponent, and like a pro his enemy dodged each and every last blow. Finally after a full minute of raining punches at his opponent, the mage's hand lashed out and connected solidly with Harry's chest, right over the gash left by Ashley and sent him flying back.

"You are exhausted, injured, and utterly spent, Hermit. It would be so much easier if you would just surrender and come quietly."

"Go to hell!" Harry shouted as he fired a pair of Chi bolts at his attacker.

He was utterly floored when instead of dodging or even blocking like any other Adept, his foe merely waved his hand, deflecting his Chi with an unseen force.

"It is to be the hard way then, a pity. It will take that much longer for you to recover and be of use to me." The man said condescendingly.

"Who are you?" Harry growled out as he prepared to charge again. His foe merely smiled at him before raising his hand towards him.

"The next incarnation of Merlin." With those words, a bolt of lightning shot from his hands, striking Harry directly in the chest, knocking the young Adept out before he could do anything. So suddenly was he struck that he didn't even have time for a single thought. All he could do was hope that Ashley reached someone, anyone, in time to pull him and Dudley out of the fire. Otherwise there was no telling what could happen, or what consequences could be wrote by the madman.

Only time could tell what lay in the future.

333

Translations

_Nihoa shenqi nuhai_: hello magic girl

**Tei-Pi**: Iron skin

**Yuu Zhua**: Jade claw.

333

Fiori: Hello there people, how did you like the newest chapter, up to snuff I hope, please tell me all about it, and know that if I receive too many flames or not enough review I shoot Cedric again.

Cedric: Why me, aren't there other people in canon that piss you off, like Snape! Everybody hates Snape.

Fiori: Yes but alternative Universe versions of Snape have never pissed me off quite like one of yours did.

Cedric: What exactly did he do?

Fiori: Here watch this. It'll explain everything. (Hands over a dvd)

Cedric: Twilight?

Fiori: Ah mental torture, last so much longer than just shooting him.

Cedric: Wait, what?

Fiori: Nothing!

Review!


	4. Bad News

Fiori: Hello once again my precious reader, I have returned. I deeply apologize for the long wait. The only thing I can tell you is that I had a severe case of Shikamaru block that I have worked tirelessly to overcome. Plus I took far too much amusement in watching Cedric suffer.

Cedric: **Sob** Why god why! Why is my alt-self a Sparkly Pedophile!

Fiori: As you can see forcing him to watch the entire twilight series _and _Read the books has deeply fractured his phycy.

Cedirc: Please, please kill me.

Fiori: Sorry this is funnier than shooting you, plus I received enough reviews not to shoot anyone at all.

Cho: Oh my god, what have you done to him you bastard!

Fiori: Wait, what?

Cho: **Avada Kedava**

333

Harry Potter and the Oriental Philosophy

Based on the concept by Tellemicus Sundance

Chapter Four: Bad News

_"Hard work shall always surpass talent"- _Wisdom of the Martial Artists.

Fleur Delacour had not been in Great Britain long. So far, she had only had the chance for the ministry to tentatively allow her visa and find a job at Gringotts. However, even that was in question what with all the odd occurrences that had been happening within the city of London. With all the strange rumors flying about, she had enough difficulty just entering the country. Even then, she still feared that she could be deported at any moment at best. Hell, the xenophobic members of the ministry might very well try to hang her for her heritage. That or something far worse could befall her, something that she would rather not think about.

A quarter Veela by birth, she was blessed with things that, in the country she was in now, were more of like a curse than anything else. This blessing came with long silky platinum-blond hair and a body that was naturally perfect. She was more than easy on the eyes. Add on top of that, she had the Veela allure and men would literally fight over her. Yet in this country, where having any blood that marked you as inhuman, her heritage only drew attention from all the sorts that she prayed would never look at her. What was worse was that all of these men held positions of power in the clearly corrupt and bigoted ministry. And thus, with a whim, they could decide her fate and that terrified Fleur more than anything else in the world.

It was this fear of what could happen to her if something went wrong that had landed her in her current situation. Following a small band of goblins through the streets of London to a location currently unknown to the quarter-Veela. At first she couldn't believe that the ministry had actually asked her to spy on her employers in such a manner. However, with the threat of deportation or worse hanging over her head, she felt she had little choice but to agree.

Thus began her slow process of trying to determine just what was 'wrong' with the London goblins. It started slow; figuring out the patterns, how often the goblins would leave, how many usually left, where did they leave from, and where in Merlin's name did they go. The first few parts had been difficult enough to find without arousing suspicions from the goblins. However finding out the final piece of the puzzle had been utterly impossible without actually following them.

Thus it led to Fleur flowing them at a painstakingly slow pace just to avoid detection. Though, she had to thank Merlin that they were so easy to follow. After all how hard was it to lose a small war band of goblins? This was, as crazy as it sounded, exactly what she was trying to pursue. Numbering at well over twenty, the goblins were armed and certainly acting aggressively enough that to confuse them for anything else would have been foolish.

Yet what was particularly odd to the young Veela-witch was that they were not armed or outfitted as goblins usually were when they marched into battle. In fact, the pair of goblins at the door to the bank were better examples of that than the platoon she now followed. Where there should have been glittering plate armor, there was instead leather and denim fitted to their size. Where there should have been deadly spears and cutlasses, there were instead bats, pipes, and chains. Not a hint of bladed weaponry could be found on them. And their clothes seemed to be chosen for mobility's sake rather than actual protection.

Fleur could only wonder what sort of foe they went to meet that would force them to change their style in such a way. For there had to be some sort of enemy, goblins did not march openly otherwise. Yet what sort of enemy did they face? Was it the Death-Eaters as the old English headmaster had tried to warn her headmistress of? Or was this some new threat that not even both the French and English ministries knew of? Only by following the goblins would she get her answer.

However she was completely unprepared the first time when, instead of moving through the hidden Alleys of the magical side of London, the goblins left through what could only be a secretly made passage into muggle London. Adding yet another piece to a steadily growing puzzle. For the goblins to leave as they had was unthinkable. Not only because it was well known how much the goblins despised humanity, but for the fact that they had absolutely no way to disguise themselves. It would be akin to her grandmother walking the streets in her avian form, an utter disaster.

At this point, the young witch had had two options. She could rush to the ministry and tell them of her findings, or she could continue to follow the goblins and divine the exact nature of their apparent madness. Both options had risks of course. If she rushed to the ministry, there was the chance that finding the goblins would be impossible, and it would most likely end with her confronting the goblins at the bank. A prospect that would be left it to the words of two different _creatures_, neither of which could actually be tried safely under Veritaserum. Thus it would come down to the words of a foreigner and the ones who controlled the entire Wizarding world's pockets. She had no doubt how it would end.

However, if she followed them to figure out where they were headed, she risked being captured by the goblins. After all, she would stand out as much as they would amongst the muggles, maybe even more so. After all, muggles were far more susceptible to her charms than a wizard was. Add to that the fact she knew almost nothing of muggle fashion, and she was sure to stick out like a sore thumb.

Still, she would have a better chance of figuring out what was going on if she followed them than if she simply went to the ministry. So, in an effort to try and blend in as best she could, she transfigured her clothes into something similar to what she remembered the goblins to be wearing. She was surprised, to say the least, when she realized the blue muggle pants, along with the black shirt and jacket fit her form. And they were far more comfortable than the robes she had been wearing before. They were both snug and yet unrestricting. If Fleur learned nothing more from this adventure, she would at least be thankful for the new clothes.

Finally she did her best to dull her allure and stepped out into the streets of London.

To say she was the best of sleuths would be a lie. Despite the fact that she had dulled her Allure and was dressed in normal muggle clothing, Fleur would always stand out. Several times already, men had walked up to her asking if she was something called a 'super-model'. Not only that but she was having difficulty keeping the goblins in sight. In a world where everything was built big, it was quite hard to keep track of the short stature of the goblins. And the goblins seemed to have picked up the pace upon entering the muggle world. It only made tracking the little devils quite a bit harder. Really the only reason she was able to keep tracking them at all was that the muggles seemed to be moving away from wherever it was the goblins were headed.

Thus it was a tired and red-faced Fleur who finally stopped by the mouth of an alleyway the Goblins had entered. Glancing in slowly, she was relieved to see the goblins had stopped marching. However when she moved her gaze past them, she nearly gasped at what she saw.

A small group of muggle boys stood before the two-dozen goblins. What was more worrying was that it seemed that this was the group the goblins had mobilized to fight. Yet, even as the goblins prepared for battle, the nine boys stood their ground with no fear or even hesitation visible in their eyes. If anything, they looked eager.

"So I see you gobbies are ready for round three. Do you ever learn? I mean, after the ass-kicking you lot got the last two times you tried to tangle with us, you'd think you would have learned something." asked the lead boy mockingly.

"This coming from you? The boy who has challenged the Hermit twelve times, only to lose spectacularly in each bout? Not to mention the time your comrades had to extract you from that lamp post after your altercation with the Berserker. Please, if tenacity was a trait to mock, you are a far greater mockery than we." the goblin smiled viciously.

"Ha, a good comeback, Griphook. But let's say we skip the banter and go right for the good stuff, ay?" the boy smirked.

"I thought you would never ask," Griphook replied.

It was not clear to the already confused girl what sparked the two groups into direct combat. One moment they were standing there, glaring and posturing. The next they were in each other's midst, fighting. Having had little experience with combat of this sort, Fleur was highly confused when the two sides met. Watching as the boys leapt through the air with almost hawk-like grace was scary, as was watching them batter the goblins around. Added to that watching as the goblins swarmed the supposedly muggle boys, the young witch was overwhelmed by the battle playing out before her.

She watched as the lead boy danced around the swing of a bat, lashing out with a quick counter, only to have to leap over the swing of a pipe. Yet, before the young fighter could touch ground, chains from three different goblins shot out. They lashed themselves around the young fighter and dragging him painfully to the ground. Goblins swarmed him quickly, raising their weapons and kicking his prone form. Only, they barely had time to do that as another one of the human fighters leapt to his rescue, batting the goblins aside and freeing the leader.

As she watched, she began to see more in regards to the battle. While it was true that the young men, for she could no longer think of them as boys, moved with speed and attacked with power. They seemed to lack something. It was clear that they were effective, since the goblins were losing. But there was just something missing. She could see the power put behind the blows that the young men threw; for when they hit, the goblin rarely bounced back up. Yet they missed more times than they hit, leading to considerable damage in the surrounding area. Somehow Fleur got the feeling that if the men had more control over themselves, they would be far more effective fighters.

Fleur didn't know how long the fight had lasted as she kept her eyes affixed to the scene. For all she knew, the battle could have been going on for as long as several hours to as little as a few minutes. All she knew was that one moment they were fighting, and the next they had halted as a battered and bruised figure appeared in their midst. Instantly, the fighter stopped their conflict as they took in the battered appearance of the new arrival. Even Fleur was concerned by what she was seeing. The new person's yellow eyes quickly swept over the battlefield before locking with the leader of the boys as he stood there loosely holding Griphook in the air.

"Thomas!" she panted as she moved towards him.

"Ash! What the hell happened to you? Did you actually try to fight them?" the now named boy, Thomas, asked.

"There's no time, they're in danger!" she shot back as she moved towards him.

"Ashley, slow down. What is going one?" Thomas asked as he gently lowered Griphook.

"I would like to know as well, Miss Felix," The now free Griphook asked.

"Hermit and Berserker, they were both hurt. Some crazy guy came, he sounded like he was going to kidnap them! We have to hurry!" she shouted as she moved to leave.

"Wait, what? What the hell are you on about?" Thomas asked in disbelief.

"They were hurt, Berserker was knocked out and Hermit was on his last legs. Then this mage shows up and starts babbling about them being the key to his ascension," the wild-eyed girl hurriedly explained.

"You're serious, aren't you?" Griphook asked quietly.

"Course I'm bloody serious, you twit! Now, are any of you coming or do I have to go looking further?" she shouted back.

"We got you, Ash, we'll follow." Thomas conceded as he moved to follow her.

"Good, now come on. The crazy guy might have already taken them."

"If that's the case, we better send someone to their teachers. If things are really as bad as you say, they need to know." Griphook pointed out.

"Right. Leo, Garrett, and Jason, you three split up and go find them, and be quick about it!" Thomas shouted out as three boys shot out of the group and leapt to the rooftops with ridiculously strong jumps before going in separate directions.

"Good, you lot, follow me." Ash breathed out in relief as she too took to the roofs with the rest of the boys following after. Even the Goblins began to move towards the other end of the alley, presumably to follow after them. However one stayed back from the rest of the group.

Turning he looked towards Fleur's hiding spot before speaking, "Miss Delacour, I trust that you will keep this matter to yourself. After all, we do have a direct line to the French branch of our bank. I believe your parents have an account there. It would be a shame if those funds were to & disappear, don't you think?" Griphook asked casually, as if he wasn't discussing the absolute poverty of a very well off family.

Having been caught, the young French witch stood and addressed the goblin hesitantly. "My family has always had a great respect for your people, and their secrets."

"That is good to hear, now if you would be so kind, I really must be going. I shall be informing the management of this meeting, they may wish to have more words with you," the goblin smirked before continuing after his fellows.

Fleur could only stand numbly in the alley. It was just too outlandish to believe. Since the time she was born, there had always been a few unquestionable truths. Goblins hated humans, Muggles would never be able to compete with magic or even be able to comprehend it, and her Grandmother would always look younger than her mother, things like that. Now, however, she wasn't quite sure about everything. The boys had obviously known what they were fighting, and they weren't that overtly concerned that they were facing beings of magic. The goblins, in turn, had respected the boys, maybe even liked them if Fleur was reading Griphook's tone properly.

All of this and more moved through Fleur's head, confusing her and bringing even more questions to her attention. Yet she was sure of one thing after this entire experience. No matter how much was offered, no matter how much she was threatened, and regardless of any promises she had made before to anyone.

The ministry could find a way to deal with its own problems.

333

"Unbelievable, simply unbelievable."

Those were the first words that Harry heard as consciousness slowly trickled back to him. The second thing his senses told him was that he was sore, and not the near blissful state he would be in had he just gone five rounds with his cousin. This soreness reminded him far too much of his experience with dragons.

"To think the entire world thought you dead, yet here you are. Alive, and more than well," came the same voice that had roused him from oblivion.

In an instant, Harry's eyes had snapped open and he was glaring at the man before him, recognizing him as the one who had attacked him after his fight with Felix. It was with a surprisingly great effort of willpower that Harry didn't try and lash out the instant focus returned to him. However even if he had tried to attack, Harry quickly found that he was tightly bound to what reminded him of an operating table. Thus it would have been an exercise in which was stronger, him or the iron restraints. No, it would be better to conserve his strength for when a better opportunity presented itself. For now it was time to learn more of the newest psycho in his life.

"The bloody hell are you babbling about?" he questioned his mystery attacker angrily.

"Ah, you return to that land of the living at last, Mr. Potter. I must say it is a pleasure to meet you at last. Sadly, I fear we shall not be getting on better terms. My work is far too important for pleasantries." The red-haired man replied back.

"Potter? Seriously man, what the hell are you on about? My name is Kaili Wu. If you're gonna get my name wrong, then at least be clever about it." Harry fired off quickly, while mentally he was cursing up a storm on par with some of Song's more colorful moments.

"Please do not insult my intelligence, Mr. Potter. The scar on your forehead, faded as it is, is all the proof I need to know exactly who you are. You are Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, slayer of Voldemort, and the only known survivor of the killing curse." His capture replied coldly.

"A scar, what the bloody hell does a scar have to do with anything. Loads of people have scars." Harry tried.

"Yes but few people have scars in the shape of a lightning bolt." The man fired back.

"What, so because I have a weird shaped scar, I have to be this Potter bloke? Get real, man. Tons of people have weird shaped scars. I knew a bloke once, he had a scar shaped like a smiley face on his chest." Harry tried again.

"Yes but few people with lightning bolt scars also have your style of hair, along with the particular shade of your eyes. You are the very spitting image of your father. Not that I met the man, however there exist enough old photos of him to know what he looked like. The same can be said for your mother. Now, either there are two boys with unruly black hair, emerald green eyes, and lightning bolt scars on their forehead. Or you are Harry Potter, thus it becomes a matter of Ocam's Razor." the man argued back.

"Fine, you're not stupid, just crazy. What do you want with me?" Harry conceded with barely suppressed anger.

"Power," was the simple one word response of the obviously crazy man.

"Power? How does kidnapping me and Dudley give you power? Our teachers are more likely to kill you than give you anything to get us back." Harry replied as he took in more of his surroundings, looking for a subtle way to slip past his captor. He saw his cousin, bound much the same as he was. From what he could sense, Dudley had been awake longer than he had. Yet what was strange was how small the reservoir that was his cousin's Ki reserves.

He saw more besides that however. Along the table Dudley was bound were what looked like inscriptions of some sort. And while he was unfamiliar with the runic methods of England, he was well versed enough in the seal works of the orient to recognize a basic pattern in the array. Added to that the fact that they had a constant hum of power to them, and Harry could tell that they were meant to keep his cousin contained, but probably even more than that. He likely had a set inscribed into his own table as well.

"Oh, I'm well aware of how likely I am to get anything from Li Chang. However, this does not change the fact that the two of you, and so many others out there, have something I want." his voice grew darker then, filled with anger and jealousy.

"So you kidnap us? Again, what does that accomplish, other than pissing off people who will come looking for us?" Harry replied, still trying to get more information. He saw more now, strange crystals connected to what looked like seal matrixes, surrounding both himself and Dudley.

"Why is it you have this power, I wondered to myself?" his captor continued, ignoring Harry's question. "What gives you the right to such things, why do you have the abilities to take what you want, and yet never use it to ascend to true greatness? What makes you so special, when I have more right to such power and greatness, yet am forced into obscurity? You have no rights to such abilities, so I'll just have to take them."

"Buddy, you are all kinds of crazy. You can't just take powers like mine. You have to work, sweat, and bleed for them. The path of the Adept is not one you can just take on a whim for power. It takes dedication. Even those who walk our path for selfish reasons know that it isn't just something they can have over night." Harry retorted.

"Ah, you see that is where you are wrong, Mr. Potter. For the past year, I have watched you and others like you wander through this city, inciting chaos and violence, all for the sake of training. A waste of your talents, to be sure, but that waste was my gain. Your careless displays of power have given rise to many more with powers similar to your own. Though they lack the refinement many of the original combatants possess. Thus they were easy to capture. From there, I discovered the energy you Adept wield, your Ki, and eventually the magical equivalent of Chi." He added.

"So, what's the point?" Harry asked, as a foreign feeling began to gnaw at his core.

"My point Mr. Potter is that I discovered a way to drain the power directly from your bodies, and transfer it to mine. I have already done such with young Berserker. Now it is your turn." The man sneered.

"Not on your life, you psycho!" Harry shouted as he began to bring his power to the fore, no longer willing to wait for the most opportune moment. As it was, this was likely his greatest opening; before the draining could commence. With a surge of power, Harry attempted to break free. Chi shot through his limbs, imbuing them with the strength to rip through steel. Already he could hear the strain of his shackles as he forced his arms to move, just a little more and he would be free. Yet he was still tired from his earlier fights, he should have felt more resistance from the runic array written into his bindings. To not feel that resistance meant that there was something more in play.

"I'm afraid you have little choice in the matter, but feel free to struggle; it just might make you feel better." His capture sneered.

That was when the pain started. Agony ripped through him as the symbols of the runic array began to glow with an eldritch light. Agony; if asked to describe it, Harry would be unable to use any other word and even then the true meaning behind the word left something lacking to him. He was already well versed in the ways of pain. His training had imparted much upon him, as well as methods to block pain out. Yet for all his training, nothing could have prepared him for the pain he now underwent. Harry didn't know how long he was under the effects of the Chi drain, nor did he even realize when it stopped. All he was aware of was the voice of his captor.

"It's such a shame really. If only you and I had met under different circumstances, but it's too late now. I can't turn back, not when my ascension is so close at hand. Very soon, the Redsun shall rise, and Merlin shall once more walk the land."

333

"This is getting out of hand," sighed Auror Amelia Bones, as she stood in front of a group of her fellows.

Now one might wonder what it was she was referring to. In truth, it could have been any number of things; from a recent rise in illegal potions smuggling to paperwork piling up to dark wizard activity. Yet none of those were what was bothering the overworked Auror. In fact, she would have preferred any of that to what was really going on.

Magic was in danger. Not from dark wizards or goblin rebellions or even the stupidity of her superiors. But of discovery. The very thing wizards and witches had feared since they had separated themselves from the world at large in the Dark Ages. And being one of the few witches who actually had to pay attention to the muggle world she actually knew how dangerous the world had become.

But stranger still was that the magic being used was unlike anything they had ever seen. All of it was wandless and used by people they couldn't identify. Add into that all the nonhumans that had suddenly decided that London was a good place to live, and it only led to confused and overworked peacekeepers. Most of who were young and greener than grass as they had never actually experienced anything like this.

And now there had been an attack on Platform 9 æ. None of it made any sense to her or those who had investigated it.

"You can say that again, boss. No one here actually knows how to handle something like this." Tonks replied drearily.

"I know, but it's our asses that are on the line now. Fudge heard about the attack and is threatening us with cutbacks and layoffs unless we can actually catch some of the people doing this. So what do we actually know about this incident, and how likely is it that it can be tied into the events in London?" Amelia asked tiredly.

"I'm not entirely sure, but with everything going on lately it's entirely possible," said one of the gathered Aurors.

"Just read me the report."

"Well, we have multiple stories, many of which are conflicting. But there are several things that can be agreed on. One was that the attackers knew about magic and were probably wizards themselves. They both displayed impressive combat abilities, as well as a firm grasp of wandless magic. We can't get a clear description of them other than 'wild hair and cold heartless eyes.' Though, we did manage to get a few pensive memories of the event. We were unable to get their real names, but we do have monikers for both of them, the Hermit and the Berserker." One of the men supplied.

"That &is slightly comforting. What else do we have?" Amelia asked.

"Well, here is where things start getting weird, and are more than likely to be embellishments. Some people claimed that the one called Berserker was immune to magic and could just shrug of spell fire. Not only that, but he was capable of using sheer brute strength to rip through magical barriers. Other reports say both combatants could move faster than the eye could see, but a few said they could make out some blurs. Some said that Hermit was capable of turning into a dragon, as well as the ability to catch spells barehanded. Others reports say that Hermit and Berserker were enemies who wouldn't have bothered them if they hadn't been interrupted, and there are even more say that they are in league and were just playing." Added another Auror.

"Just great, anything else you think I should know?"

"Well there is something, but I don't really have solid evidence of it," Tonks said hesitantly.

"And what is that, Auror Tonks?" Amelia asked, doing well to mask her dread.

"Well, according to one witness, it is likely that both attackers are in league with Li Chang."

Silence dominated the room as the news sank in. Then it abruptly ended in shouts as every voice attempted to make itself heard. Some in panic, others in disbelief, but all wanting an equal say when in regards to Britain's top Undesirable.

"Silence!" Amelia shouted after the noise had reached a deafening level. "Now sit down and shut up. Auror Tonks, how reliable is the information?" She asked turning to the young woman.

"Well, I would like to say that it's good, but the witness in question was in shock when my apprentice and I got the information out of her. But I would like to believe that she wasn't making it up." She answered.

"And what makes you think that? None of us heard anything about these two being connected to that bastard. Everyone else was too focused on the fight and how the pair of them tore through most of the upperclassmen," said one of the many Aurors in the room.

"Because the source in question is Cho Chang and if anyone is likely to recognize his work, it's her," Cedric said from his place next to Tonks.

"Great, just perfect. What is the believed connection to the Undesirable in question?" Amelia sighed in resignation.

"We believe that they were his apprentices, competing for his favor," Tonks replied.

"Wonderful. Any other bombshells, Auror Tonks?"

"Not really, though I would like to say that if the Department of Mysteries is going to nose around a crime scene, that we should receive fair warning." She added.

"What?" Amelia whispered in surprise.

"Here, here. That bastard was snooping around before we even showed up, asking all kinds of weird questions," agreed another Auror.

"What?" Amelia said again, louder this time.

"Not only that, but the ruddy bastard would barely cooperate, acting all superior, as if he were the bloody Minster of Magic," someone added.

"What the bloody hell are you all talking about!" Amelia finally shouted, surprising all those present.

"We're talking about that Unspeakable that was nosing around at the platform," Tonks replied quickly.

"What Unspeakable?" Amelia asked harshly.

"The one that claimed he was there investigating a mystery of magic. Said something about there being some truth to all the outrageous claims about the two attackers."

"Do you mean to tell me that some bloody bastard was snooping around and claimed he was an Unspeakable? What the bloody hell are those bastards thinking? They know full well that they have to communicate with one of us before sending any of their men into a crime scene!" Amelia seethed.

"So wait, you're telling us you didn't know about him?" One of the Aurors asked.

"I didn't have a clue. So unless the Department of Mysteries forgot to inform us of their inner working, then we have something else going on here." She replied.

"Well, what else could it be?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked.

"I don't know, but I'm sure we won't like it."

333

Li didn't know what to think of the way the Convergence had been playing out. There were just so many things that were different when compared to how things had worked during his youth. Things like cell phones and the Internet. And those were just a few of the things that made the inner workings of the Convergence different. Yet the difference was not a bad thing, far from it actually.

In comparison to the last one, things were far livelier. Not only were there more Adepts competing than ever before, but also there were other challenges. The abundance of mages for one made the game more fun. Along with the surprisingly great number of nonhumans that had entered themselves into the mix. But it was these differences that worried him ever so slightly, and it was this worry that had him meeting with his oldest friend and rival.

"So, what the hell did you call me up for?" Song asked rudely as the pair of them took a table in an outdoor section of Starbucks.

"A pleasant hello to you too, old friend," Li greeted softly.

"Shut up, mage. How many times have I told you, we aren't friends?" Song lied. In truth, there were few others Song would ever hold in such high regard. But old habits rarely ever died, especially those as old as they were. They had been rivals for so long that few actually knew them as well as the other. Thus Song went with the response he had always used: yelling at Li and goading him.

"As much as I would like to yell back at you and begin yet another one of our bouts, the matter at hand is far more pressing," Li replied with a smile.

"Fine, take all the fun out of it. So what is oh-so-important?" Song asked.

"Have you noticed how different this convergence is?" Li questioned.

"Well, I would say that there are a lot more combatants in this one then the one I set off. I'm not sure if that's because of the location or if it's because of the time. Is that what this is about?" Song replied in confusion.

"Yes, that is exactly what this is about. This convergence is very different than the last, and I begin to grow concerned about how big that difference is." Li answered.

"Well, why the hell is that? I mean, our disciples have so much more to challenge them then before. With all the adepts crawling out the wood works, I wouldn't be surprised if they grew to full mastery by the time this is over. Especially my student, he's already stronger than I was at his age." Song boasted with pride.

"I too am proud of my student. He has grown far faster than I ever did. But that is not my concern; my concern is how many new Adepts have been appearing." Li said with a small smile at the mention of Harry.

"Again, what's the big deal? New Adepts are always born during a convergence. It's basically one of the big reasons why we do this, to make sure the Art never really dies out. That, and to give the next generation as much training as possible," Song asked in confusion.

"Yes, but have you ever seen so many?" Li asked suddenly.

"Well, no, not really. But, again, how is this bad?"

"The world is different now, old friend. Far more connected than ever before. Evidence of our presence is more far reaching than ever. More and more Adepts are being born than ever before as more people catch sight of us and spread word of our existence. With so many Adepts being born without true masters, I begin to fear for the future." Li replied.

"What are you saying?" Song asked with shock, even forgetting to grumble about not being friends. The notion Li suggested was of far greater concern.

"There are far more Itinerant Adepts in this generation than there are Legacy Adepts. With no true teachers to guide them, the chances of them abusing the power they find themselves with grow with each day. We are incredibly lucky that there aren't any reports of them using their power selfishly." Li explained.

"That's, I mean & what are you suggesting?" Song asked in shock as he thought over the implications.

"That we are currently sitting on a powder-keg. With so many Adepts here, it is only a matter of time before some with a more selfish mindset begin to cause trouble." Li answered.

"Damn! I never really thought of that, but damn it you're right. Who knows when it will begin?" Song growled.

The matter they were speaking of was very serious, Adepts abusing their power. It wasn't very common, but not exactly rare. Yet with so many Adepts being born, things were not in their favor. Most Adepts only grew to true greatness under the efforts of a teacher. This was in part because the greatest styles were the old ones. And a style rarely lived to old age unless those who didn't draw attention to themselves practiced the style. Adepts who did what they pleased, regardless of who they hurt, quickly drew the ire of the other practitioners of the Art.

But those of a more viscose nature who lasted long enough were those to be feared. If they started appearing in the city and taking students, it was only a matter of time until a body count started. And that was something both Li and Song would do everything in their power to prevent. They had drawn enough attention to themselves already. As of right now, they weren't really doing any harm, save to property values. But the moment they started leaving a death toll, well that was the moment their anonymity dried up.

And with the number of teacher-less Adepts wondering about, learning what they could & Well, the chances of them being scooped up by uncaring masters were very likely if any of them came to town. Thus, it would make the ensuing battles far bloodier than if one of them merely went rogue. Caught between a rock and a hard place, it was with increasing urgency that Song realized how troublesome the modern-age was for those like him.

"We must find a way to head the problem off, before it becomes too late," Li stated calmly.

"But how, we're already too far along in the convergence to just stop. Too many are already here. And to police, the fights would take too much away from it. But unless we can put a tighter rein on things &"Song trailed off, not really wishing to even think about the darker possibilities.

"I'm not sure what we could do, but a way must be found, and we need to find it quickly." Li said gravely.

Song was about to begin bouncing ideas off of him. But his currently somber thoughts quickly took yet another plunge when a voice called out to them.

"Master Thor, Master Odin!" the voice of a teen called out as a young Adept descended from the rooftops directly onto their table. As the young teen landed, Li took in the young man's ragged appearance and desperate face. It was easy to conclude that something urgent was at hand.

"You spilled my Tea." Li deadpanned as he watched the precious nectar that was British tea spill to the ground. Song, however, was a little distracted.

"How many ruddy times must I tell you punks to not call me that?" Song growled as he grabbed the young teen.

"Must you react like that every time someone calls you that?" Li asked with a sigh, preparing for the rant that was soon likely to follow. However, before Song could even start, the young teen in his hands cut into the conversation.

"Please Master Thor, berate me later. We need you now!" the teen pleaded with Song.

"Look, whatever it is, you can just find our disciples. We got no time for you," Song sighed angrily as he set the young adept down.

"But you don't understand, this is about them! They might be in danger." the young teen pleaded.

"What do you mean by in danger? Those two have more skill than either of us did at that age. What could possibly be dangerous for them here?" Li asked with trepidation.

"Look I'm not entirely sure who took 'em down, all I know is that some mage came after' em after they were already worn down. The fighter who told us this seemed to think the mage was beyond them while they were injured. That's what I know, anyway. So, are you coming or not?" The teen explained in a rush before taking off back for the roofs, looking back at them once more.

"Shit, you think this is for real?" Song asked Li in a hushed tone as he looked up at the young fighter.

"I'm not sure, old friend, but I have a bad feeling about this entire thing." Li replied before leaping after the teen.

"Fuck, you better have put up one hell of a fight, Dud," Song murmured before he too followed.

333

Pain.

Pain was what awaited for him when Harry finally returned to consciousness. His entire body hurt, and felt impossibly heavy. He felt drained of the essence that gave him power. His chi reserves were dismally small. And worse still, it felt like something was inhibiting him from fully accessing it, and thus increasing his pain. If he could access his power, he knew that he could bring some relief to his aching body. Yet without it, he was likely to be in pain for quite some time.

Harry wasn't sure if he had ever felt such agony. Being no slouch to pain, he would have usually laughed this off, but this time it was different. Normally, pain would subside and eventually go away. However this pain lingered and refused to be eased, thus bringing true agony with it.

"Fuck!" he growled as he pushed his body into an upright position and observed his surroundings.

Judging by the clichÈ cast iron bars that made up his doorway he was in a cell of some kind. Usually this wouldn't have been a problem for him, because even with minimal access to his Chi, he was still quite skilled at escaping such places, Li had made sure of that. What made it bad however was that Harry could make out runic arrays along the bars, as well as the stone the bars led into. With a diminished access to his power, it was unlikely that he could muscle past the wards as he usually would.

"Great, you're finally awake," came the morose voice of his cousin.

"Yeah, yeah, nice to see you too, Dud," Harry said weakly as he turned towards the source of the voice. Directly across from him in a cell exactly like his sat his cousin. Dudley's usual jacket was gone, leaving him in his sleeveless shirt. Along his cousin's arms, Harry could make out several metal bands, each with a runic inscription.

Dudley, catching on to what Harry was observing, began to explain, "So you noticed 'em huh? Well, guess what? You got a set of your own." Dudley supplied, causing Harry to observe his own arms. Sure enough, a set of metal bands adorned his arms.

"The bloody hell are these things?" Harry groused as he tried to pry one of them off.

"I'm not one hundred percent sure, myself, but I think they're what's dimming our connection to our power. Also, I think these things might have us lo-jacked. Though, I can't tell for sure." Dudley offered as Harry continued to try to pry at least one of the bangles off.

"Nice," Harry mumbled sarcastically. "Any other tidbits you need to share?" Harry asked as he finally stopped tugging on the bands.

"A couple, first off, we ain't the only ones here," Dudley supplied.

This in turn caused Harry to approach the bars and look out into the halls. Sure enough, along the walls were other cells.

"Peachy. Any idea why the lights are dim?" Harry asked as he took in the poor lighting.

"My guess is that the magic is messing with it. Now the second thing is that this guy is not alone." Dudley stated.

"What was that?" Harry's head snapped towards his cousin.

"This bastard's got followers. And I'm pretty damn certain that they're Adepts, but they don't quite feel right; their Ki is wrong." Dudley explained. Harry, ignoring his indignation that any Adept would serve an obviously mad-man, tried to piece together what Dudley meant by his last comment.

"What do you mean 'wrong'?"

"It's hard to describe. They have high Ki-reserves, and it's flowing through them along the right paths. They obviously have access to it, but it feels wrong, like it's not theirs." Dudley explained.

"How's that possible?" Harry questioned in confusion.

"Because the Ki ain't theirs," a weary voice sounded from further down the hall.

The cousins turning their heads towards the sound and did their best to make out the source. It was another teen, dressed in ragged street clothes. Even with their limited senses, both of the boys could tell he was an Adept. In the dim light of the hall, however, they could make little else out about him. However he kept talking regardless of their study.

"That bastard who captured us; I have no idea how but the buggery git can drain and transfer Ki. Makes himself stronger. Those others are his minions, they go out and gather us up for him, and in exchange he does the same for them as he does for himself." The teen explained.

"Artificial Adepts, well that explains why the git captured us. But why keep us alive after he drains us?" Harry mused as the implications of what happened finally began to sink in.

"Well, even if he can empower himself, there are a few downsides. One, he doesn't have the ability to naturally rebuild his reserves."

"So what, the fucker keeps us as batteries so can recharge himself?" Dudley asked in outrage.

"Pretty much, yeah. The other thing is, while he can take our underlying power. That fucker can't take what makes us really great." the other boy trailed off.

"Our skills in the Art, our techniques," Harry guessed.

"Bingo, without those he's like any other fresh Adept out there. Sure, he's got speed and power, but he wouldn't have any idea how to use it properly. So, every now and again, he takes us to a pit he made here. He loosens our restraints and has us fight some of his boys. If we don't fight, we get beat to death. All while he watches, studying us, picking apart how a technique works, or a style flows." The teen continued.

"Let me guess, with the restraints loosened some of you guys have tried to make a break for it, right? Used some quick flash move to take down your opponents before trying to make a break for it." Dudley guessed.

"Yup, and every time that happens, he gets a new technique to study." The teen nodded.

"Anyone actually manage to escape?" harry asked hopefully.

"Did you know about this fucker before he captured you?" the teen asked incredulously.

"Point, anything else we should now?" Harry asked.

"The bastard's name, he calls himself Redsun."

333

"What do you mean you didn't send anyone to the train station?" Amelia growled in indignation.

Already she wasn't in the best of moods. After the migraine-inducing report about the attack on the train, she had jumped through more hoops than she had cared for, trying to meet with someone capable of giving her a straight answer. Yet it had taken fifteen different people giving her the runaround, including several different illusionary answering machines, before she finally got to the person she now yelled at. Only to be told this.

"Just as I've said, we at the Department of Mysteries, have not nor were we planning on sending anyone to investigate the incident at platform 9 æ. Why you would think we would send anyone for a dark wizard attack is beyond me," the nondescript Unspeakable replied in an almost condescending tone.

"Then why in Merlin's name was there one of your people snooping about?" Amelia seethed.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about?" the man replied.

"Bull shit, I have multiple reports all verifying the same thing. There was an Unspeakable wandering about asking questions. Now either you sent someone and are now lying to protect your oh-so-precious secrets of magic. Or that person was lying about being part of the department." Amelia growled. Normally she prided herself on being calm and collected, but by this point she didn't care for appearances.

"Well, it is most likely the second option I assure you. We did not send anyone to the station." The man replied.

"Now, see, I have my doubts about that. The people in your department are fairly well known for sticking their noses where they don't belong. And then their bureaucracy protects them from being reprimanded, and I know for a fact he was there. I even have a title to go with. Which one of your en likes to go by the moniker of Redsun?" Amelia asked in a sickly sweet voice. Imagine her surprise when she actually got a visible reaction out of the man.

"Did you say Redsun?" he demanded.

"Yes, that was the moniker your agent went by."

"Merlin's beard!" The Unspeakable cursed.

"So you do know this man?' Amelia asked triumphantly.

"Yes, though I'm afraid the news is far from good," the man sighed in defeat.

"Well, tell me anyway," Amelia ordered.

"I'm sorry but it is an internal-"

"If you give me that internal matter bull shit, I will personally castrate you. This man interfered with an investigation. Now it looks like you know him, withholding this information and treading on our toes is crossing the line. Your department has way too much leeway in things, but when the matter overlaps with Auror work, I am well within my authority to demand information from you." Amelia said angrily.

"Fine, but you will not like the information. Several months ago, one of our men became obsessed with the rumors about the fighters in London. He became delusional, started talking about another form of magic, one even muggles could access. We tried to contain him, but before we could he went rogue. He stole some experimental runic designs as well as several magical objects we had been studying."

"And why were we at the Department of Law Enforcement not informed that there was a rogue Unspeakable on the loose?" Amelia asked pointedly.

"It was an internal matter," The man replied emotionlessly.

"Yeah, yeah, well guess what, that internal matter is running loose. Now, be honest, how dangerous is this guy?" she asked seriously.

"If you had asked that question several weeks ago, I would have told you he was talented, but nothing a few well trained Aurors could handle." The Unspeakable answered slowly.

"And now?"

"I do believe that there isn't a single person in either of our departments that could take him down. And if we attempted to attack him in groups, it is highly likely that we would sustain heavy losses." The man answered solemnly.

"He's that powerful?" Amelia asked with a slight hint of fear.

"I'm afraid so."

"Well shit!"

333

Draco Malfoy was miserable, an odd thing for the self-styled prince of Hogwarts. And it was not due to the hours it had taken to remove the various hexes and curses from his person. While it was true that the process had been fairly painful and in no part pleasant, that was not the source for his misery. What was however was the humiliating defeat he had suffered at the hands of Hermit and Berserker.

The two teens had walked all over him, as well as every other student in the school who dared to challenge them. They had been power incarnate. He had thought himself powerful. That he had no challengers to his reign of the school. Save for the teachers and that foolish Weasley boy, yet in the end the teachers were as lax as they had been when his father had attended school. And to think of Ronald Weasley as his rival was pathetic. The arrogant whelp processed only average magical talent, along with such an abrasive personality that even his own house avoided him. Yet the supposedly muggle boys hadn't even paid him a second glance beyond using him as an impromptu club and shield.

What was worse was that he wasn't even sure that his attackers had been wizards. Part of him said that they had to be, for muggles could never surpass a wizard. Yet part of him whispered otherwise. Recalling that Berserker had called magic 'cheating', Draco began to wonder if there were other sources of power aside from magic. And if so, was this supposed power stronger than his own magic? After all, they had claimed that they were 'Artist beyond their level of comprehension', did that mean their power was greater?

Yet such a thought was preposterous! Magic was the epitome of power. To say otherwise would be the same as spitting on his heritage. And yet he was curious. What was it they had done before? How had they performed their feats of power if not by magic? What else could there be? As sad as it was to admit, he was dumbfounded. Worse still was the only person he could think of that might possess the answer was someone he detested. To go to her for answers would be to lower himself to her level, and he be damned before that filthy mudblood thought herself his equal.

With a resigned sigh, he made his way to the school library to find his answers. While the opening feast was postponed until tomorrow, he had nothing else to do, save sit and wonder, so he might as well look into the possible methods the Hermit and Berserker had used.

Upon arriving, he realized that he was not the only person who had had that idea. The library was filled to the brim with chatting students poring over books, searching for the answer to the strange power that Hermit and Berserker possessed. A flustered Madam Pince stood behind her desk, long since having abandoned any attempt to bring silence back to her sanctuary. Even now Draco could hear the conversations.

"Who were they?", "How were they so strong and fast?", "Do you really think they were muggles?"

Frustrated by the number of people already there, Draco strode forward stiffly, doing his best to conceal his frustration. Finally nearing one of the shelves, he began to search for anything regarding the mystery that was the two attackers. Yet as he suspected, the search was nigh impossible. Already others who sought answers to the same questions had taken so many books in the purpose of finding the truth. Then there was the fact that Draco really had no idea where to start for his quest of knowledge, and asking Madam Pince right now would be similar to asking a dragon to bite one's head off.

_"No, there has to be a simpler way of finding what I want,"_ the young serpent thought to himself. This time examining the faces of those present Draco began to search the library for the telltale bushy hair that would doubtlessly trying to solve the enigma of the two teens. While he may have been above asking her directly for the answer, listening in on her was another matter entirely.

Spotting her, he saw that she was already surrounded by books and discussing her findings with those near her. The young Slytherin carefully made his way to her, doing his best to avoid notice. For it would not do if she thought he had come to her for answers, nor would it do for anyone else to come to that conclusion. Nearing her, Draco began to make out her frustrated words.

"It makes no sense! There is absolutely no way they could have done that!" Granger growled to her two companions.

"Well then, how'd they do it? It takes decades to master wandless magic. And by then they'd be as old as Dumbledore." The oaf Longbottom supplied.

"Perhaps they caught a Revered Morgal," came the wistful voice of Loony Lovegood.

"A what?" Draco mouthed, just as Granger and Longbottom asked the same question.

"A Revered Morgal, they grant wishes if you catch them. My father has been trying to catch one ever since Mummy died. Perhaps they're really old men who simply asked for their youth back?" Lovegood explained.

"Well aside from that, is there any other explanation?" Longbottom asked dubiously.

"That's just it, what they were doing, unless by magic, is just plain impossible. It looked like something out of a Kung Fu movie." Granger huffed.

"Wait, what's a Kung Fu movie?" Longbottom asked in confusion that was mirrored by Draco's own.

"It's a piece of fiction that muggles watch for entertainment. The Kung Fu brand in particular features martial arts and occasionally wires to move the character impossible distances." Granger explained.

"So muggles do have stuff like that?" Longbottom asked in hope.

"Yes but it's not real. It's impossible for humans to move like that." Granger said in that oh-so-sure-of-herself voice that pissed Draco off.

"Yes, but isn't that what muggles say about magic?" Lovegood interrupted, putting a damper into things.

"Huh?"

"Muggles said that Magic wasn't real, yet here we are. If they were wrong about that, couldn't it be true that these 'Kung Fu' movies have some basis in fact?" Lovegood pressed.

"Well, I mean, it could be possible, but I-"

Draco had stopped listening by that point. He was sure he had already found his answer. This 'Kung Fu' was the source of their power. If that were the case, then he would find some magical equivalent and prove to them that it was superior. After all magic and those who wielded it would always be superior to those who didn't.

333

"This sucks," Dudley grumbled as he dodged one of his attacker's punches before using their own weight against them, tossing him casually behind him.

"Shut up and fight!" shouted another of his many attackers as he dashed forward.

"Sorry but I refuse to hand over my hard-earned techniques," Dudley replied casually as he stepped to the side, using the bare minimum of Ki to dodge his attacker and trip him up. However he paid for this with yet another strike from one of the remaining six teens under Redsun's banner.

"So what, you're just gonna sit there and take it? Who would have thought the great and powerful Berserker was such a pansy!" His attacker shouted. Only to be silenced when he receive a punch to his gut from an angered Dudley.

"Keep the comments to yourself, asshole!' Dudley shouted before he dodging to the side.

Turning to the rest of his attackers, the only true Adept in the ring again adopted a defensive pose. He would be damned if his skills fed the power of the man in charge of all this. And so he and Harry had come up with the brilliant plan of fighting defensively. So far it seemed to be working, but still he had already taken a several hits that weakened him considerably. But he refused to give in and fight them seriously.

Even if the plan blew horseshit.

Even now he was on the defensive. Blocking the attack of his forward foe, he was forced to jump back as yet another of them attacked him from the side. Then sensing a threat from behind, Dudley bent his knees and leaned to his left, just enough so that his foe's fist breezed by his face. Grabbing on to his foe's wrist, he once again used their own power against them as he threw them forward into the ranks of Dudley's other opponents.

He had to keep his smile to himself, as his foe didn't arise again. However when the remaining five backed away in caution, he allowed the smirk to come to his face.

"Come on then, let me show you how a real Adept fights." Dudley grinned.

There were no words as they charged him all at once. But he was just fine with that. These five lacked so much that to take them seriously would have been a waste of time. Dodging under the punch of the first foe, he lashed out with a left hook. Yet he did not have time to relish the feel of his opponent's face contorting to his fist.

Ducking under the savage kick of another, Dudley began to backpedal as two of them tried to lay into him with a flurry of blows. But as he dodged around them expertly, he began to grow impatient. While it was true they were fast, they had so far scored nothing but glancing blows. Growing tired of the effort of dodging, Dudley stopped and brought both fists forward striking both foes in the sternum, dropping them both to the ground, gasping in pain.

"I thought you weren't fighting?" one of the foes asked in shock.

"You think this is fighting? Huh, pathetic," he snorted. "If you think this is me actually fighting, then you assholes have never really been in a true battle between Adepts. As it is now, all I'm doing is swatting flies." he continued, relishing the fear he produced in the two Artificial-Adepts.

"Bullshit! We've fought tons of Adepts! There's no way the gap between them and you is that great!"

"Well, too bad for you, but I'm betting they were just a bunch of street fighters who'd just begun to tap into their Ki. Given a few years, they could have made something of themselves. But compared to me, a guy who's been doing stuff like this for over half of his lifetime, you guys stand about as much of a chance as a Twinkie in my folks' place." Dudley smirked.

"Shut up!" one of them shouted as he charged forward blindly, making it rather easy for Dudley to sidestep and clothesline him. Smirking at the final opponent, he began to slowly make his way towards him.

"And then there was one."

333

The fighting had lasted for another half hour as Harry did relatively the same thing as his cousin. Using nothing but the basics and defeating their foes. For a while, they had been worried that they would have to be a bit more serious in their fights. But even as drained as they were, their opponents hadn't stood a chance. They were the same as many of the Adepts that had popped up during the convergence. They possessed little actual skill, instead relying on the power of their Ki to overpower lesser enemies. But faced with naturally skilled opponents, they failed to stack up.

Yet it brought little comfort to their hearts. They were still captured and lacked any means of getting the bangles off. Both of them knew this, just as they knew it was only a matter of time before the men under Redsun's employ grew strong enough to actually make them work for their victories.

They needed to escape.

But to do that, they needed a plan and preferably one that would put the hurt to Redsun. Neither of them had to discuss it with the other, but they both knew how the other felt. Redsun had to pay! What he was doing was beyond anything they had ever seen before. And they had seen quite a few things in their time. But if what they suspected was true, then Redsun wouldn't stop until he could take full control over everything he could.

"We have to get out of here, Dud," Harry said softly from within his cell.

"Not arguing, Harry, but how exactly are we going to do that?" Dudley asked as he caught sight of his cousin's hands. They were moving through signs, spelling out a question.

'Can you understand?' Trusting his cousin, he didn't ask aloud why he was signing at him.

'Why are you signing?' he asked silently.

"Well, what do we know about the fucker?" 'He might have listeners, we need to be careful,' Harry answered while continuing the spoken conversation.

"Well, we know he's siphoning power off of us." 'Gotcha,' Dudley replied, catching onto what his cousin had in mind.

"So, we know he's got to keep us alive, right? Well, that means we don't have to worry about lethal force." 'I need you to trust me.' Harry continued.

"Well, lucky us, we don't have to be so careful, right?" 'I trust you.' Dudley replied enthusiastically.

"Good, I have a plan." Harry replied, his signs mimicking what he actually said. And as Harry explained his plan to his cousin, Dudley could only smirk. The plan was crazy, reckless, and potently lethal.

In short, it was perfect.

333

Notes: Itinerant Adepts: An Adept who lacks a true master. Instead learning what they can from whomever they can. These adepts are the most common and mostly rise during a convergence.

Legacy Adepts: These Adepts are those who have an established school that can be traced back for several generations. Unlike the Itinerant Adepts, they are fewer and mostly keep to themselves.

Adepts in general: Neither the Itinerants or the Legacy are better than the other. Itinerant Adepts are regarded with great respect for their ability to rise from practically nothing into the ranks of Adepts. While Legacy's take great pride in their style and are to be respected for their mastery of it. In the end, it is up to the individual fighters to determine who is better, rather than their origins.

333

Fiori: Shit, shit, shit. That bitch is crazy, though not as bad as she-who-is-emo. (Just guess)

**Bang**

Cho: Die you bastard.

Cedric: As you can see Fiori Is busy now, normally I'd ask that you all review so I won't get shot. But I can't seem to find the will to live any longer.

Fiori: Don't listen to him just review, or I'll shoot, um… Wait who will I shot?

Cedric Please let it be me.

**Bang. **

Fiori: sorry you want it too much. Listen folks just review or I'll shoot… somebody. Maybe Cho.


	5. A Matter of Principal

Harry Potter and the Oriental Philosophy

Based on the concept by Tellemicus Sundance

Chapter Five: A Matter of Principal

_"Reason before fight, fight before harm, harm before maim, maim before kill, and only kill when absolutely no other path is available."_ – code of the martial artist.

X-Somewhere in London, Sunday, September 9th 2:18 a.m.

He was frustrated, and even that was an underestimate on just how close he was to going on a killing spree. The source of his frustration was of course his newest tools. It had been a little over a week since he had obtained them, and yet he was no closer to understanding their mysteries as he had been when he first saw them engaged in combat. And by now he had seen them in battle half a dozen times over. Yet still they used nothing but the basics, and even then they made sure they were sloppy. In short, Redsun was very close to losing his ironclad composure in regards to Harry Potter and Dudley Si.

They were supposed to have been his greatest breakthrough, the two most powerful students in all of London, and yet all he had gleaned from them was how very ill-equipped his own forces were. He now knew that it was pure luck that he had managed to get a hold of them. Had they not been weakened when he confronted them, he would have been lucky to capture even one of them, let alone both. Hell, if he hadn't captured them personally, it was more than likely that they might have just laughed the attack off as another group of amateurs thinking themselves big. And yet the boon he had been given was tainted by the sheer lack of progress he had made in uncovering the secrets of their more powerful techniques. As they were now, they were merely useful as batteries. And even then it wasn't that big of a use. Redsun already had dozens of Adepts to use as power sources for the mysterious energy that was Ki. The addition of the two powerhouses wasn't that great of a difference. Really, there was only one thing he could do with the two of them right now.

Well, one of them actually.

"I am here, Master," came a voice, bringing Redsun back to reality. Turning he gazed upon his most loyal and oldest followers.

His name was Christopher Lionheart. He was average in many ways compared to others Redsun had gathered under his banner. His hair was dirty blond and short, barely an inch off his head. He dressed plainly in much the same fashion, as any other Adept would, light unrestricting denim jeans and a T-shirt. Really, the most remarkable thing about him was his eyes. They were a light hazel in color, yet that was not what made them stand out. It was the sheer hunger his eyes portrayed. This young man was just as power-hungry as Redsun himself; just as desperate to carve his name into the world, no matter the cost to others. Even his own morality was sacrificed for his goals. It was for this reason they had joined forces. They had met over a year ago, when Redsun had first begun his quest for the power of others. Yet Chris's journey had started even before that.

Chris had been one of the first to feel the power behind London's first Adept. He had been just a nameless punk back then, not even slightly aware of the potential power that existed within him. When Dudley had shown up looking for a fight, Chris had laughed at the kid, writing him off as just some thirteen-year-old punk trying to act tough. And then the Berserker had punted him into a river. No one _ever_ laughed at Dudley again after that. That had been how it started.

He'd shed buckets of blood, sweat, and tears just to awaken his Ki, and it still hadn't been enough to even stand at the same level as Berserker. For months he pushed himself more than any other, and yet the gap between himself and the other fighters grew and grew. Even those who had first bore witness to Berserker's strength had surpassed him by leaps and bounds. And so when Redsun had walked into his life and offered him power, he had taken it.

He had been the first to be drained, the first to receive transfusions, the first to be handed new techniques after Redsun himself had mastered them. But still, for one such as him, it wasn't enough. And Redsun knew that. Redsun knew that one day Christopher would try and test himself against him, to see if he had surpassed him. To take control of the source of power that Redsun provided to those who obeyed him. But until that day he would remain the loyal subject, willingly submitting to any and all experiments he wished to perform on the Adepts. And that was truly a gift from the heavens to the renegade Unspeakable. Even among those loyal to him, there were those who objected to his more invasive studies.

"Yes, thank you for coming, Christopher," Redsun turned, acknowledging his subordinate.

"What is it you wish of me?" Chris asked flatly, in a snide tone. If it had been from anyone else, they would have been flayed alive for the disrespect. As it was, Redsun really couldn't afford to lose such a valuable tool just yet, thus he allowed the small disrespect.

"Tell me, Christopher, what do you know of magic?" Redsun demanded.

"I know very little. I know you are a mage, that others of your kind have claimed sections of London as your own, and I know that they have a different source of power than Adepts," Chris answered slowly, not seeing where Redsun was going with this.

"Very good, but you left out the part about how a mage's power can be mixed with an Adepts."

"I didn't see the relevance. You are the only mage I know personally, and you are unlikely to ever share your magic with us." Chris replied.

"True, my power is my own. But we have recently captured a true magical Adept." Redsun explained, watching as Chris's eyes widened in understanding.

"Who?"

"The Hermit, I take it you wish to proceed." It wasn't a question Redsun didn't already know the answer to.

"Get the table ready."

333

X- Hog's Head Inn, Scotland, 2:30 a.m.

"Could you say that again, Nymphadora?" Albus Dumbledore asked solemnly.

"We have another threat in the city, a rogue Unspeakable who answers to the code name Redsun," Tonks answered, for once ignoring the use of her hated first name.

"That is most disturbing news indeed," Dumbledore nodded as he turned towards the gathered members of what remained of The Order of the Phoenix.

In 1992, when he had found the Philosopher's Stone missing from its hiding place and Quirrell dead in front of the mirror, he had called all his old allies together. Thus, reforming the force that had been key in helping defeat the Dark Lord in his last uprising. He had also taken the liberty to inform the ministry of Voldemort's return. The Order had gathered with haste and the ministry, while fearful, had also reacted in kind. They had stood united under his guidance, ready to face whatever evil Voldemort would bring upon their world.

At least, in the beginning they had.

In the ensuing years since his declaration, they had slowly but surely abandoned him. The game was different somehow. Tom wasn't playing by his old rules. He had been quiet, so very quiet. There was absolutely no evidence that he was back, save the loss of the Stone. Even when there was a mass breakout from Azkaban, it could not be attributed directly to Voldemort, but he knew that his old student was somehow behind it.

Yet even still they had begun to abandon him. The Ministry had been the first. One year into Voldemort's secret return, the Ministry of Magic lost its faith in him. For an entire year they had been on high alert, but no attacks happened, no Dark Marks shown, no arrests made, no Dementor uprising. They had soon labeled him senile, and then they left him. They ignored his pleas, disregarded his suggestions, even going so far as accusing him of trying to inspire fear. In the end he had lost just about all of his titles and positions of political power, save Headmaster of Hogwarts. But even this was not the end.

Remus had been next to abandon him, then the Weasleys, Kingsley, and Minerva had followed. Even the recently freed Sirius had abandoned him. Of course this was only after he had smashed his nose in for the third time. Remus had already done just that before him. Of course, their reasons for leaving were far more personal, especially when he revealed his knowledge of Peter Pettigrew. Though it was merely the knowledge that he had suspected that Pettigrew was alive and truly guilty was what caused Minerva to leave him. She had made sure he knew how displeased that made her when she ensured that time was not the only thing keeping him from baring children, before she too left. Even now she avoided him, save for when absolutely necessary, always appearing last to staff meetings and the like. Already those that remained were beginning to lose faith in him.

As of right now, those who remained were Alastor, Nymphadora, Severus, and that was it. Four people, including himself, were all that stood before the darkness that Voldemort would bring back to the world. Three of which were beginning to doubt him, as well as the cause they were supposedly fighting for. It wouldn't be enough, not against the power Tom would bring to bear on the world.

"Disturbing doesn't even begin to cover it, Albus. A rogue Auror is disturbing. A rogue Unspeakable is terrifying." Alastor replied.

"Perhaps, but this also begs the question of how long he was in the department. If he is as young as Nymphadora, there may be hope." He replied.

"Thirteen years sir," Tonks spoke.

"I'm sorry my dear?" Albus asked in confusion.

"He was working for the department for thirteen years before he went rogue." Tonks clarified.

"And that there is twelve years too long. Who knows what mysteries he's uncovered or how powerful he is." Alastor growled out.

"Well there goes that hope." Severus sneered at him.

"There is but some hope," Albus said sagely.

"Oh and what might that be old man." Severus asked back.

"My dear Nymphadora," Albus began, ignoring Severus.

"Tonks!" the young Auror corrected with a growl.

"Are there any signs that this man is aligned with Voldemort?" he asked without stopping.

Despite the flinches, the room fell silent as the other members looked at him blankly. The silence felt like it would last forever, encompassing all and drowning him in the incredulous stares of his followers. It lasted for all of five seconds before Moody began to speak.

"Albus, you have been my friend for years. And because of that friendship, I have allowed you to do many things that, had anyone else asked to do so, I would have hexed him or her and thrown them into Saint Mungo's before hauling them off to a trial. I have fed you information from within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I didn't question your ignoring the Potters' will and putting their child with his mother's family. Hell, when you asked me to ignore the lack of trial in the Black case, I did. Now let me ask you something, Albus. What has this led to?"

"Alastor I do not see—"

"Well, let me tell you then, since you obviously can't see. When it was found out that I had been supplying information to a man that was not directly involved to the department, regardless of who it was, I had to resign, handing the reigns to a green candidate. And while I respect Kingsley, he was nowhere near ready to cover my beat and he got a lot of people killed before he pulled his act together. When I stopped my investigation into the Black case, an innocent man spent eleven years in Azkaban. And, most importantly of all, Harry James Potter, the child of some of my dearest friends, got killed! So, no more, Albus!" He was shouting by now.

"Alastor, please—"

"No, Albus, this needs to be said! Everything that has happened has been because you have been so bloody focused on him for all these years! You put a child in a neglectful and borderline abusive home, only for him to run away and be killed. You sentenced an innocent man to Azkaban. I lost my job and a fair share of my reputation when I stood by you! What the bloody hell is wrong with you, man? He's dead, Albus. Voldemort is dead, and he's not the threat anymore! If he wasn't dead and was really back by now, he'd have made his move already and you know it! But you're so blinded by him that you can't even see the threats we should be focused on. The threats are Li Chang, his disciples, and now Redsun. Stop living in the past, it's already cost you too much. Do not make it cost you my friendship as well." Alastor finally calmed.

This time the silence lasted longer. Alastor had done something that was usually the prelude to someone walking away. Yet he sat back down and continued to glare at the leader of the Light. Albus, honestly, didn't know how long he sat there staring back at his friend, in that point of infinite silence.

He would not yield in this though; Tom was back. He knew it, could feel it in his bones and magic. Yet, with no evidence, he had lost everything.

"It is as you say, Alastor, we should focus on what we can. Please, what theories do you have on the matter?" He conceded.

"We know for a fact that Chang is here, there have been too many sightings of him. And in the attack on the Express, we know for a fact that the two teens from the platform used methods of magic that bares resemblance to Chang's method." Alastor said in as even a tone as he could manage. He knew his old friend well enough to know for a fact that even if he had made his point, his words were still only half accepted. Albus still believed Voldemort walked amongst them.

"And what methods would those be exactly?" Severus asked quite suddenly.

"Surely you should know, Snake, he showed up when you still served Voldemort; killed his share of your ilk." Alastor shot at him.

"Yes, yes. As the ghost stories say, he used impossible wandless magic, bore great speed, and could block even the Unforgivable with his bare skin. Spare me the rumors, 'Mad-eye'. I would like something a bit more real than that." Severus shot back.

"They're not just stories," Tonks spoke in a quiet yet sure voice.

"Oh, and what makes you so sure of that?" the spy asked.

"Because I'm one of the few people who have survived a direct meeting with him. I was there when he took the Boy-Who-Lived. He caught my spell and threw it back at me with his bare hands." Tonks said with heat, even as she shivered at the memory. This, in turn, was enough to silence the former Death-Eater.

"There's more isn't there?" Alastor asked as he watched her carefully.

"Yes, but technically I shouldn't be sharing this with you. It was for ministry employees only," she said as the knowledge of what had been found made itself known in her mind once more.

"Well, girl, what is it?" Alastor demanded.

"One of the teens that attacked the Express, he punched through the wall separating the platform from the muggle side. The Unspeakables have determined that it would take a full-blooded troll or a half-giant on Re'em blood, to say nothing of a full giant, to break down those walls. And some random kid did it! If this is the result of Chang taking students, then I do not want to fight the man himself. That Redsun, an Unspeakable, is interested in his students, and by extension Chang himself, does not bode well." Tonks continued.

"Yes, but what could he be doing back in London? He vanished after killing the Potter boy. What could he be doing back?" Severus questioned, suddenly much wearier of the threat presented by Chang.

"He's here for what every other member of his damned kind is here for," came the sudden voice of a man Dumbledore had honestly never expected to hear from again. Turning as one, the remaining members of the Order saw the two figures that had returned.

"And what might that be?" Albus questioned, hiding his surprise expertly.

"Chang's here to fight, nothing more." There stood the last two Marauders, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin had returned.

333

X- Diagon Alley, Same time, Far from the Order meeting in the back of the Hog's Head Inn, the man in questioned sneezed.

Li looked around himself in a calm manner, searching carefully for any sign of attention focused on him. Yet, even in this task, he could not suppress the urge to sigh. His student and adoptive son had been missing for a week, and he was still no closer to finding him. It was utterly maddening. Multiple times he had to catch himself and prevent his anger from being taken out on those who had nothing to do with his rage. If anything, he now understood why his brother had reacted as he had oh-so-long-ago.

Song had been equally unsuccessful in finding his own student, as had the many Adepts on the street that had respect for both boys. All that was known so far was that this man bore more resemblance to a mage than he did a true Adept. And so Li had cautiously ventured into the hidden Alleyways of London's magical community.

Sadly though, luck still seemed to be against him. The Goblins, the Lycanthropes, any and all who had been touched for the better by the Convergence, had found absolutely nothing. The only thing he had actually managed to learn was that somehow Harry and Dudley had managed to have one of their bouts spill onto Platform 9 ¾. He already knew what happened after that; the fight with Felix, followed shortly after with the boys' capture, and then nothing.

He had hit a wall, and for once he couldn't get past it.

This had of course soured Li' mood considerably, leading to his rather poor choice of wandering Diagon Alley undisguised. In some ways, this was incredibly risky, as he was considered to be Magical Britain's most wanted criminal. On the other hand, it had been decades since his picture was last in the papers, and considering he looked to be almost exactly the same as he had back then. Really, the only people at this point in time that had a chance at recognizing him would be Aurors or his family. And, honestly, the chance of running into either would almost be a welcome distraction.

Almost.

"Li Chang! Lay down your wand and come with us!"

In retrospect, Li really should have been careful what he wished for.

333

X- Diagon alley, ten minutes ago.

Ten minutes ago had been last call at the Leaky Cauldron. Within that bar, Cedric Diggory had been just another face in the crowd amongst a group of fresh Aurors off their shift and looking for a good time. After all, they needed it now more than ever. The confirmation of a rogue Unspeakable had put everyone on edge. And considering how things had already been tense with the news of Li Chang's return, several already overworked Aurors had succumbed to nerves and were currently resting at Saint Mungo's.

So what better way to unwind than go to the pub and drink until the wee hours of the morn? It seemed perfectly reasonable when he thought about it. After all, Cedric was practical, if nothing else. If it worked, use it; and getting drunk had certainly caused him to relax. In fact he had been so relaxed that upon sighting Li Chang the first words out of his mouth hadn't been "Freeze!" It had been rather inelegant, actually.

"Oi, that bloke looks like my girlfriend's uncle."

All of this was of course said with the drunken slur common amongst those who had ingested large quantities of alcohol. It was also accompanied with the detachment of his cognitive functions. Thus he hadn't even really realized that what he was saying was along the line of accusing if he was looking at a mass-murderer. In fact, it wasn't until the innkeeper, Tom, gasped and dived behind the door he was showing the group of drunken Aurors through, that enough of Cedric's statement sank in enough to not only sober him up, but for panic to set in.

Of course this drew his drinking buddies and fellow Hogwarts graduates attention to the presence of Undesirable no.1. When the implication that they were looking at a man said to be the next Dark Lord, the sobering effect that had over taken him was quickly mirrored amongst them as well. This of course brought about the question of what to do about Chang's presence in the Alley. After all they were the keepers of the peace, it fell to them to fight dark wizards, break up slave rings, and oddly enough save kittens.

Then again this was Chang. Many of them were of the mind that it would be safer, and smarter, to leave as quickly and quietly as possible and inform their superiors of Chang's presence. Cedric would happily admit to being part of this group. After all he hadn't survived the Tri-wizard Tournament by charging recklessly forward. He had been careful, had made plans, and went around the things he couldn't push his way past when they had sprung up unexpectedly.

At this point in time, picking a fight with Chang was stupid. All of them were drunk, even if the adrenalin had focused them. And magic was always squiffy when the person casting it was impaired. Not only that, but they were all either fresh from the Auror academy, or still in training before they were deemed ready to be partnered/apprenticed to an already established field Auror. Finally there was the fact that Chang was not only sober, but he was also somewhere around his seventies despite his youthful appearance, and everyone knew that a wizard got more powerful the older they got. As he wasn't the only one aware of all of these factors, it seemed likely that it would be agreed that it was very bad idea to attack the infamous man.

However, it seemed that some of them were possessed by what he would call courage, and others would call "Suicidal Tendencies".

One such individual was Arthur Fay. He, like Cedric, had only graduated Hogwarts this past year and was fresh from the academy. In school he had been a rather influential Gryffindor, a Prefect with high marks in all his classes. He was handsome, well spoken, and talented at defense. It was no surprise when he joined the Auror corps after graduation. And it was he who decided that attacking the man that parents had used to frighten them all into obedience with as children was the smartest thing in the world.

Cedric quietly theorized that he had probably been dropped on his head several times as a small child.

"And what happens while we're off. He'll be here doing who knows what. Are you all really willing to risk the safety of those here because you're afraid? This is our chance! We can avenge our fallen hero." He spoke, rousing their courage.

"But this is Chang! What chance do we have against him?" one of the younger Aurors asked desperately.

"And what can one man do to twelve of us. Fearing him will only give him more power. Fear was what caused so many to sit on the sidelines during the last war. We already know he's started to gather followers. If we take him down now, then we could likely have prevented a war. Think of all the lives we'd have saved." Fey argued back.

It continued for a short while after, and with each counterargument that he shot down, the courage of the assembled group grew by leaps and bounds. And Fay was rather good at inspiring others. The potential loss of their lives was answered with the question of whether it was better to die for a noble cause than to flee in shame, knowing that because you fled more would die. Yet unspoken under all the inspirational speeches was another reason to charge recklessly forward.

The fame.

If they managed to defeat Chang, they would be heroes. Heroes got promotions, heroes got written about in history books, and heroes could have their pick of women. But most of all, heroes were noticed, and for the Pureblood scion of an ignoble house, that was the best chance they had at changing their standing within the Wizarding world, a place that still functioned under what amounted to a caste system. Even if they did elect a minister, those who actually voted sat in seats that were inherited via blood relation. Thus, if you weren't from a family that could track their origins back several dozen generations and had a Gringotts vault with over five thousand galleons on it, at minimum, the only way you were going to get anywhere was by doing something extraordinary.

And so, gathering what courage they could, the twelve of them stood before a man said to have been capable of catching spells and uttered their command.

"Li Chang! Lay down your wand and come with us!" Fay shouted authoritatively, his wand held out before him. To Cedric's surprise, the only visible reaction they got from the man before he spoke was for him to sigh and glance at them.

His verbal response was as much a shock as his reaction. "I have no wand to lie down. I lost the thing years ago."

This was not the usual response of a man surrounded by Aurors, especially by twelve of them. According to his partner/master, who had learned it from her teacher, even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would have grown cautious when facing this many people. Fortune favored the prepared after all, and all it would have taken was just one Auror getting in a lucky shot to end his reign of terror. But for Chang to act so casually, something about it set warning bells off for him.

"I also have no real desire to deal with you all right now, so I ask of you to please stop this foolishness before you get hurt," Chang spoke again, finally turning towards them fully.

It was at this point that Cedric realized how very surreal this all seemed. Here was a wizard at a disadvantage, and yet he asks them to stand down. He was obviously outnumbered, and apparently unarmed. Which in itself was odd, losing one's wand was embarrassing at best. To not seek a new one was likely a sign of insanity. Yet despite this he still had not reacted to them in any way other than turning around. It was rapidly becoming apparent to Cedric that the man had to be either completely insane or…he knew something they didn't. Cedric was leaning to the former.

Considering that Cedric was a wizard, this mistake could be forgiven since he had obviously never seen Star Wars Episode Six. As his master/partner had seen the movie in question, it would be at about this time that she realized how off the entire situation was and begin the process of slowly backing away and hoping she wasn't seen. What happened in the next few second would have confirmed her suspicion that not only was Chang prepared, but that the Aurors really had absolutely no idea what they had just picked a fight with.

"Well, if that's the case, this won't be much of a fight! Stupefy!" Fey yelled as he threw his spell. He wasn't the only one to throw a spell either. All twelve of them had begun to launch spells, drowning out each other's incantations as they fired their spells. Stunners, bone-breakers, body-binds, cutters, and all manner of combat hexes flew towards the man.

And not a single one touched him.

To their eyes, he seemed to stand still as the spell fire hurtled towards him, and yet nothing happened. To them it looked as if the spells passed right through him. Impacting on the wall behind him, destroying it and kicking up enough smoke to conceal the man. It took ten seconds for the spells to stop and the smoke to clear. Chang stood unharmed, and did nothing more than brush a bit of dust off the front of his clothes.

"If that is how it must be," Chang sighed.

Cedric didn't know what compelled him to leap away from his fellows and seek cover. Perhaps it was a reflex from his days as a Seeker, warning him that danger was nearing him at high speed. Perhaps it was the rumors he had heard from the students at platform 9 3/4 about how fast the supposed disciples of Chang were. It could even have been how the man's form seemed to flicker for a split-second. Maybe it was a combination of them all. None of that really mattered. All that really mattered was that he leaped to the side just as Chang appeared amongst them and began to attack.

One moment he was over a dozen feet away from them, and the next Chang was in their midst. Cedric could only watch as Chang struck with quick and brutal efficiency. Not a single movement wasted, each strike, block, and kick led to the next and formed a brutal, yet deadly dance. In that instant, Cedric gained some measure of understanding on whom the enemy was. And it was in that single instant that Chang decimated eleven Aurors without even blinking. With a chop to the neck, the only other Auror beside himself dropped and Chang turned towards Cedric.

"Must we continue this? I have more pressing matters to tend to," Chang spoke, glancing from Cedric's tightly gripped wand to the young Auror's pale face.

"I-I have a duty to detain you for the crimes you have committed, but I really wish I didn't." He had barely spoken the last few words, yet to his surprise the man had heard them.

"You have a bit more sense in you then others. I too would not envy the position you find yourself in. But I too have a duty I must perform, and thus have no real desire to fight or harm you or your companions. If you let me leave, I shall harm no one else." Chang nodded.

"Wait, really?" Cedric asked in surprise. Considering the notion that the man before him was thought of as a Dark Lord, he could be forgiven for his confusion.

"Yes really. Contrary to popular opinion, I do not enjoy killing and only do so when no other course is available to me." Chang explained.

"And what possible reason could you have had to kill the Boy-Who-Lived?" Cedric argued, forgetting momentarily that he was trying to argue with a man who could kill him on a whim despite claiming otherwise.

"Oh? And might I ask who exactly told you that I killed him?" Chang asked, an amused smile gracing his face.

"The Prophet?" Cedric asked, now confused.

"And their evidence is where? But enough of this, I must take my leave now. You may wish to tell your superiors of this incident, though I wish you wouldn't. In the end, though, I must return to my task regardless of your choice." Chang stated calmly before turning to leave.

"What are you after?" Cedric yet again didn't understand the force that compelled to ask such a question. Maybe it was the odd look Chang had on his face prior to the fight. Perhaps it was his insistence that he had something more important to do than deal with a group of Aurors impeding his way. All Cedric knew was he was searching for something.

"A man has taken something from me and it is my intention to retrieve it from him." Chang replied vaguely.

"Who could have taken something from someone like you?" Cedric asked in shock.

"Someone who is a threat to both of us."

Cedric thought on that for a moment. The monster Chang was considering someone a threat. And not just to him, but to the rest of the Wizarding world in general. The answer itself was vague but it clued him in enough to make his next guess.

"You're looking for Redsun, aren't you?" Cedric guessed, thinking of the only other threat the ministry was after that had shown a vested interest in something of Chang's. Mainly the students Chang had apparently taken on.

"And who might he be?" Chang paused, returning his attention fully upon Cedric once again.

"He was an Unspeakable that was nosing around the scene your apprentices caused at the platform."

"Ah, yes, that debacle. I wonder, was it by chance or perhaps something more that one of their little fights spilled onto your tracks?" Chang smiled fondly for but a moment before returning his hardened gaze upon the young Auror.

"Now, what more do you know about him." Cedric knew it was a demand, not a question that had been directed at him. He had obviously hit the hail on the head with his guess about who could have caused such a reaction in Chang. And it was for that reason that he made his next calculated move.

"We don't know much. Only that he was an Unspeakable before going rogue. My superiors think he went crazy before stealing some things from the Department."

"Tell me, why are you giving me all this information?" Chang again demanded.

"Well, if you two fight it out, that leaves only one problem for us to clean up in the end," Cedric answered honestly.

"Hmm, pit your enemies against each other. Smart, lad. Keep up that kind of thinking and you just might come out ahead in the long run." Chang smiled lightly before once more turning to go. And this time Cedric let him.

He had already accomplished one tiny victory, determining that it was unlikely that Chang and Redsun would ever work together. However he was now in another unenviable position. Informing his superiors that he had engaged Chang and failed to do anything really relevant would not be pleasant.

He was also left wondering over some of Chang's parting words. How did he, or for that matter the rest of the Wizarding world, really know what he had done to Harry Potter? No one besides a young girl and a bunch of obliviated muggles had been there to see what Chang had done before leaving with the boy. After that, it was all just a bunch of hearsay. No body had been found, and no one actually had any conclusive proof of anything beyond the fact that Chang had left with an unconscious Boy-Who-Lived. Truth of the matter was that the papers had merely assumed that Harry Potter was dead and started printing stories about it.

Now that he thought about it, why would a man who could kill children take on students anyway?

333

X- Hogshead Inn, Scotland, 3:13 a.m.

"Run me through this again, Black, because I'm not sure I understand you," Severus Snape grumbled tiredly.

"I don't see what's so hard to understand, Snivellus. I already told you all I know." Sirius Black shot back.

"Yes, I'm sure you gave me all the knowledge your feeble mind could cobble together. But the fact of the matter is that the knowledge you have provided us with is insane! Wizards who focus their magic entirely on physical endeavors! All of which they do without a wand! Such a thing is crazy. Only the most powerful of wizards and witches can cast spells without wands. And even then, it takes years to accomplish." Snape shouted.

"Hey, that's what I've managed to cobble together. If you hadn't guessed, I was focused on other things. Like avenging Harry's death!" Black argued.

"Severus, Sirius, please. Arguing will get us nowhere." Dumbledore tried to reason.

"And listening to this buffoon's mad ramblings won't get us anywhere either," Snape growled back.

This was much the same vein things had gone down since the return of the Marauders. Both Sirius and Remus had sat before them and explained what, admittedly little, they knew about the things happening in London. To be frank, the tale was nigh impossible to believe; even considering the fact that it came from a pair of wizards and was being told to other beings that wielded magic. But even so, it was more than they had to go one since… ever really.

After Sirius had escaped from Azkaban and confronted Remus over Harry's location, things had quickly spiraled downward. After learning Harry was 'dead,' Sirius had nearly broken down mentally. This of course was enough for Remus to question the commonly accepted notion that his friend had betrayed James and Lilly to Voldemort, leading finally to both men confronting Dumbledore. Something Remus wouldn't have done otherwise since breaking ties with him and breaking his nose after learning that he had placed Harry in the environment he had.

Needless to say things had not gone well. Sirius had broken his nose a third time and left to seek out the man who had taken the last remnant of his brother in all but blood from him. From there, both Sirius and Remus had lived apart from the rest of the Wizarding world. It wasn't that they didn't go to places like Diagon or even Hogsmeade. Rather it was that they were far too busy trying to track down Li Chang to make regular appearances in such places. Yet, for all their hunting, they had always remained just one step behind.

Well, to be accurate, they were actually over half-a-dozen steps behind him, but they honestly didn't know this.

However, in their travels to find the man, they had come across something that was in some ways a wonder, and in other ways a horror. Li Chang was not alone in his terrifying ability to use wandless magic.

No one was quite sure where he had gained such abilities. All that was really known was that sometime in his teens he had left Hogwarts and set off across the world, never to be seen or heard from again until he returned sometime before Voldemort's rising. Considering he looked like he was only just then entering his twenties after over forty years away and possessed an unnatural skill in wandless magic, it was assumed that he had been up to some less than savory things. But as the talent seemed limited to him, the people of the magical world had prayed that his youth and magic were unique to him.

Oh, how wrong they were.

From what Sirius and Remus had gathered, there had existed alongside the members of the magical community another, even more secretively hidden group of wizards. Though, they did not bear the title of wizard, instead labeling themselves 'Adepts'. These Adepts had practiced their skills in wandless magic and rarely ever revealed themselves to the world. Save of course for The Convergence. Which of course was simple a free-for-all tournament of death that was meant to cull the population of the Adepts and determine who was the strongest.

Needless to say, Remus and Sirius had learned of the violent uprisings happening in London and drawn their own conclusions. And while it was true that they weren't on the best of terms with the Headmaster of Hogwarts, they couldn't really go to the ministry with this news. As one of them was a wanted criminal and the other a werewolf, it was more than likely that anything they said would be disregarded. Thus they chose to inform Dumbledore, as he was likely to at least take what they said under advisement. However, the presence of Snape was still something Sirius couldn't tolerate for long periods of time.

"If I'm a madman, then you have nothing to worry about, do you? After all, it's not like the mysterious students of Chang's didn't use wandless magic to wreak havoc upon the platform." Sirius shot back.

Snape was actually silenced by that point. Regardless of what he wanted to believe, such a thing had happened. But if what the Marauders said was the truth, then things would get a lot worse before they got better. And he really didn't want to see London reduced to rubble by a bunch of crazy wizards getting into duels. It was worse still that the wizards considered fistfights, of all things, to be more appropriate than wand work.

333

X- Hogwarts Library, Scotland, Same time

Draco Malfoy was almost to the point where he would consider pulling his hair out to be a viable form of stress relief. Yet he knew that doing such a thing would yield no positive results, and as he'd only recently regrown his hair after the debacle at the platform he really had no intention of losing it in such an undignified manner.

Now, one might be wondering what could possibly be driving the self-styled Prince of Hogwarts to such lengths of frustration. The answer of course was that he could find absolutely no reference to a magical form of 'Kung Fu'. Not a single text had mentioned it. But it wasn't only that; many other students seeking advanced combat abilities had already gobbled almost every single text on battle magic up. Leaving him with the leftovers.

Even in these late night sessions in the Library, he could find nothing at all. The only things he could find were a few books on dueling forms and a textbook for seventh year Defense Against the Dark Arts. But somehow he knew that such things would never be enough for the two monsters. What use were dueling stances when your opponent could close in on you before you loosed your first spell? What use was advanced magic when it would simply bounce off your opponent's skin?

Many had been quick to force the irregularity of the two monsters out of their minds, but not him. Draco couldn't forget how his opponent had sent spell after spell bouncing off his skin before lashing out with monstrous strength on those foolish enough to attack him. How the monster had stopped his own spells before he ended up being used as a club.

Thus, Draco had concluded that to beat the monsters, he himself had to become something equivalent of them. The art of 'Kung Fu' Granger had mentioned had intrigued him, though he showed no signs of it. Thus, it was where he had started his searches in the dead of night when he should have been patrolling with the rest of the prefects. But no books had existed in the library to help sate Draco's curiosity. And he'd be damned if he asked Granger for any more information on the subject. The fact that he had been intrigued by a muggle art was embarrassing enough, but asking someone he had to maintain superiority over would be a sign of weakness.

But even still, he was beginning to grow desperate.

"By the Founders, why can't I find anything?" he growled to the heavens.

"What is it master be lookings for?" came the surprising voice of the Malfoy family elf.

Dobby had been the family elf for as long as Draco could remember. And in all that time, he had always thought the elf odd. Any time the elf had been threatened with clothes for displeasing them, he had looked…hopeful. Yet he had always done as they told him in the end. In fact he took any task given to him with an odd enthusiasm despite the poor condition his family had treated him.

But the truth of the matter was that Draco almost felt…sorry for the small creature. Dobby had been one of the beings that had cared for him when his parents were busy, which was almost all the time. His father had always had some duty to attend to at the ministry and his mother always had some function to attend to. For the first six years of his life he had spent a majority of his time with the small elf. He had even called the thing his friend once. However once his father overheard this, he did his damnedest to ensure that his son knew the proper protocol on how to treat all that was not human. And like the good son he was, he had complied with his father's wishes. No matter how much it had hurt. But in these rare moments when no one was around, he almost could forget what he had put the small creature through and act… politely towards him.

"Nothing, Dobby," he sighed, running a hand through his hair tiredly.

"If master is looking for nothing then why hasn't he found it?" Dobby asked quietly, bringing a small smile to Draco's pale features.

"Heh, true enough. I don't suppose you could tell me where to find a book on 'Kung Fu'?" he asked rhetorically.

"Dobby doesn't know what kungfooey is. But if master be having trouble finding something, then Dobby suggests he try the Come-and-Go Room." Dobby said honestly and helpfully, glad that his master seemed to be in one of his better moods.

"The what?" Draco questioned in surprise.

"It be a hidden room on the seventh floor. It has anything you need, alls you must do is asks it." Dobby nodded enthusiastically.

Draco could only turn a pointed look at the house elf. It couldn't be that simple, could it? But then again, what if it was? Magic was known to be strange, and Hogwarts was the most magical place he knew about. It was entirely possible that there really was a hidden room that gave people what they wanted. After all hadn't the Headmaster, barmy as he was, mentioned finding a bathroom that had appeared and then disappeared? If that was the case…he might of just found his answer!

"Show me the room Dobby."

333

X- Seventh floor corridor, thirteen minutes later.

Draco stood in front of the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy in silent contemplation, going over exactly what his elf had told him.

_"The room only opens for those who be having great need of it," the little elf had explained._

_"Well, how do I show I have a great need?" He had asked as the elf led him to the corridor._

_"Dobby walked in front of the picture three times thinks he needed something once, then door showed up and it had what Dobby needed."_

"There's no way it can be that simple." He whispered to himself as he looked at the picture. Nonetheless, he began to pace in front of the portrait.

_"I need a way to fight them."_ The first pass, images of the Hermit and the Berserker tearing through the students came to his mind.

_"I need a way to become their equal."_ The second pass, images of the fight the pair had been engaged in before they took notice of the assembled Hogwarts students was the next image he brought forward.

_"I need to become an artist beyond the level of comprehension!" _The third pass, and the image of Berserker yelling out to the world exactly what they were came next.

In all honesty he had no idea why these were his needs, and not a need to be better than them. If it had been his father the needs would have been simple. '_I need to beat them, I need to crush them, and I need to humiliate them._' While it was true that he felt those needs, there was also his pragmatism to consider.

His father had always taught him to strive for greatness, but it was at Hogwarts that he had learned that one had to take steps to reach the ultimate goal. And as the ultimate goal was to beat a pair of monsters, he would settle for becoming like them first. Before he could beat them, he would become a monster himself.

He didn't know whether to be shocked or overjoyed when the door materialized opposite the portrait. In the end he settled for silence as he strode through the door to see if the castle truly could provide him with the answers he sought. What he found upon opening the door was a small room very much unlike anything he had ever seen before.

The floor was made of a soft cushiony material and the walls were lined with mirrors. At one end of the room was a bag held aloft by a chain. It looked almost like a target for something. Next to the bag was a row of bars, each looked like they could fit in one of his hands, yet some looked to be too big for him to even consider trying to lift, at least until he remembered the Berserker's comment about throwing boulders. Aside from that, there was also a bench with a large bar set above it, and several more weights to the side that looked like they could be attached to the larger bar.

But it was the raised structure in the center of this odd room that had drawn most of his attention. The platform was at least three feet of the ground; not counting the four corners that had an additional three feet to them. Ropes from each of the just connected around the platform and seemed to separate it from the rest of the room. On the side facing him he noticed a bell connected to a little clock and hammer. Finally there was the table set up before the platform and the four books upon it.

Walking over curiously Draco gazed at the four books; at first he was confused about the titles of the four books. But upon reading the titles of all of them, he couldn't help the smirk that grew on his face. He had finally found it, the key to becoming better than them. The entire school was focused on conventional magical methods that would never have a chance against the two monsters. And here he had found the method, which would bring the Hermit and Berserker to their knees. It was appropriate that it was he who found such a method hidden within the school.

After all, he _was _the Prince of Hogwarts.

333

X- Somewhere in London, 4:00 a.m.

Harry was bored. Odd considering he was a prisoner planning his escape from a madman that was using him as a living battery. Though it was the truth. He was so very bored. After planning the escape with Dudley, all that he really had to do was sit back and wait for things to happen and their chance to appear. It helped to have a plan within a plan.

But it had been a week since then and nothing had really happened. Sure he and his cousin had been put into the pit a few times, but that didn't really count. After all, it wasn't like the boys pitted against him were hard to beat. They barely understood the power they had stolen, wasting tons of it on useless moves. Sure some of them had more skill than others, but Harry and Dudley could see that most of the Adepts that had been captured were new to The Convergence to begin with.

So he sat and he waited, hoping that the chance to break free would come soon.

Dudley was restless. He could feel his Ki reserves filling, slower than usual, but still. As dulled as his connection to his power was, he could still feel the energy building inside of him. The fact that he couldn't properly access it, or do anything to blow off steam, only added to his unease. He knew for a fact that he was very, very close to doing something stupid and reckless in the arena. But he would wait, biding his time to break free and give Redsun a taste of a true Adept's power.

No matter how much he hated waiting.

"So why are you two still here anyways?" came a curious voice, drawing both Harry and Dudley's attention.

"Huh?" Harry replied inelegantly.

"Yeah, after you guys spent all that time planning I thought you'd be out of here already." Another said.

"Ah, well, as the saying goes: 'patience is a virtue'. We are just waiting for the right time. 'Sides, if we busted out now, what do you think would happen to you lot?" Harry nodded.

"What's that supposed to mean? You saying you two could have busted out of here already?" asked a teen that was visibly older than either.

Dudley would have answered, however the sound of approaching explosions cut him off. Idly he listened as the blasts became louder and louder. Finally it came to a head when an explosion ripped through one of the walls further down the cellblock, blanketing the area in smoke. He could only smile then as he felt the same thing his cousin no doubt felt.

The cells' wards had fallen.

"Well, it wasn't what I had expected, but hey; surprises are fun." Harry said happily as he fiddled with his cell door, happily finding that the only thing that had kept it close was a locking charm.

"True enough, think we might not need Plan B?" Dudley asked as he stepped out of his cell, experimenting to see if the bracers still worked. Sadly they were still cutting off from their power.

"Eh, if we don't, we don't. I'm certainly not goanna complain if we all manage to get out of here." Harry said optimistically, before he turned to survey the other Adepts pouring out of their cells.

"So, who wants to start a riot?" Dudley smiled viciously.

333

X- twenty minutes ago.

The Table, as it was so referred to, was just that. A table. It might have once been an aesthetically pleasing table, probably used by a small family to serve meals on. At least it was before Redsun had gotten a hold of the thing. Now the wood had runes of all sort carved into its frame, making it stronger than steel, and capable of channeling the very life force of a human being. Straps were tied into it, to hold a subject down in case they thrashed about. If one were to look closely, they could see the various lines in it, were many had dug their nails into the hardened wood.

However unlike the tables that were used to drain away the power of one of the many prisoners, this table was reserved solely for the purpose of bestowing power. It was the personal table of Redsun and Christopher. The underlings in their employ had to make use of the tables that were also used to drain one's power away, thus weakening the charge one could gain. This table had no such imperfections in its rune work.

"Are you ready for this?" Redsun asked his lieutenant as he strapped the teen onto the Table.

"Heh, why wouldn't I be?" Christopher shot back.

"Hmm, true. This might prove to be quite painful, however. I have little to no idea what the effects of magic might be in a muggle such as yourself. But I simply must see if you can survive it. Do try not to die." Redsun said negligently.

"Just hurry it up, I want to see if magic is any better than the Ki you feed us," Christopher growled.

"Very well." Redsun sighed before turning to the crystals that he had painstakingly separated Harry's magic into. Slowly he began to place the five crystals around the teen strapped to the table, forming the five points of a pentagram. But as he did so, he had to ponder the mysteries of Harry Potter's power.

Redsun had been surprised just how entwined the boy's magic and Ki had been. He had always thought that Ki was a separate entity from magic; existing alongside it, but never with it. After all, that was how the Ki he leeched from others was in his body. While it was true that he could consciously mix both of the energies as they left his body, it was slightly painful to do so. Thus he had never understood that they were already supposed to be mixed while still within the body.

Turning to look at his lieutenant, he almost allowed himself a smile. Testing this would bring him just one step closer to proving to the fools at the Ministry that he was the one who deserved respect. But in truth there was more. Despite his recent forays into the power of the Adepts, Redsun was originally a researcher, and if this succeeded, it would prove to be something that would cement his place in history.

In anticipation, the mage began the ritual to funnel the power from the crystals into his lieutenant. The magic moved from within the crystal, through the runes surrounding him, and finally into Christopher. Redsun was surprised by the results the power had when injected into his subject. After all whenever he poured Ki into someone, they experienced something, not unlike sexual pleasure. Thus he was unprepared for the screams that tore through Christopher's throat.

Christopher's scream was equal parts pain and surprise. He too had been unprepared for the pain of a foreign energy that had no place with his body flooding into him. The magic crashed into him with the force of a truck, tearing into the core of his very being like no pain he had ever experienced. Taking residence in his bones and muscles, as he had no true magical core to hold it in. It was a process that took little more than a minute to complete. But to him, it might have as well been days.

Yet as the agony slowly subsided, he could not help but reveal in the power that began to take root within him. He had thought Ki to be a source of ultimate power. But with this new energy existing within him alongside his pilfered Ki, he felt stronger than he had ever felt in his life. In truth he felt almost drunk on the power magic had granted him.

"Are you still alive, Christopher?" Redsun asked in detachment as he moved towards his now-silent and unmoving subordinate.

"Course I am." Christopher groaned as the straps began to be removed.

Slowly the Artificial Adept moved from lying on the table to looking at the rogue Unspeakable in what could only be called contemplation. Christopher felt strong, stronger than he'd ever felt before. He could feel the energy within him, making him strong, making him powerful. Slowly, he began to smile. With such power at his fingertips, he surely could challenge Redsun now. If anything the older man would only be a mildly interesting challenge to him now.

"How do you feel, Christopher?" Redsun asked as he moved back. Headed for his notes to record his latest findings.

"Fight me."

"I'm sorry, what? Redsun paused, turning to the teen. If others had been there to see the older mage, they could see as his curiosity faded, and a darker, more dangerous personality began to emerge.

"I said fight me! Or are you afraid?" Christopher smirked as he stood, his power fluctuating and coming to life around him.

"That would not be wise, boy." Redsun replied coldly, all trace of the researcher gone from him.

"I really don't care. Now put up your fists. If this magic shit is as powerful as you make it seem, this should be one hell of a fight." Christopher replied manically as he began to move forward. Redsun in return could only look at his subordinate coldly as he too began to flare his powers. Taking this as some form of signal Christopher moved, in an instant he was in front of Redsun, throwing his left arm forward in a wild swing.

The older man had to seriously work his muscles as well as his borrowed power to dodge the wild swing of his subordinate. Ducking under the roundhouse punch, Redsun brought his own hand up in counter, striking the teen in the chest. Christopher went rocketing back from the blow to his chest, yet even that was not enough to incapacitate him.

Twisting in midair, the maddened teen moved his body so his feet connected with the ceiling of the room. The force behind him still dented the reinforced materials of the building, and when he pushed off, he left a small crater behind him as he once more hurtled at Redsun.

This time the older man had to actually move back to avoid the surprising attack. Leaping back he ignored the crater his subordinate put in the floor as he began to charge his energies into his hands. He didn't hesitate to blast lightning towards his opponent, striking him dead center again. The blast threw the teen back with more force than even the palm to his chest, destroying a wall as he flew away. Redsun looked on as his Lieutenant crashed into another wall before stopping, and slumping to the ground.

"Such a pity." He sighed. "Still I wonder why he reacted so violently."

"Is that the best you can do?" Christopher's voice sounded, surprising the mage from his musing. Redsun looked up in time to see his underling's fist come racing up to his face. The mage didn't have any chance to defend or retaliate. He took the punch straight to his cheek.

The blow was more powerful than anything he remembered his subordinate ever being capable of. He was thus unprepared to brace himself, and was sent flying back from the blow, crashing into the wall.

Taking a stance as he quickly climbed to his feet, Redsun said, "So that's the way you wish to fight, eh? Very well then, I won't hold back anymore. It's time you remembered your place, my young apprentice." As he was talking, he began gathering his chi and ki in considerable quantities and forming a magnificent violet silhouette around himself.

"No, it's time I took what is rightfully mine, old man!" A flaming red silhouette encompassed Chris as he too charged his newfound power.

Charging forward with all the speed and power of a freight train, Chris cocked back his arm as he neared Redsun, screaming a battle cry as he did so. Ducking under the obvious jab, Redsun sent two of his own into Chris' face. But Chris ignored the pain and lashed out in an unexpectedly fast punch to the face that caught Redsun by surprise.

Much the same as earlier Redsun was sent flying through a wall, but he did not stop at merely one wall. Painfully he crashed through five of them, before stopping in the crevice of a sixth. Dazed from the pain, he began to move from his position, hoping to recover before the monster he had created caught up with him.

"Master, are you alright?" came a concerned voice, cutting through the fog in his brain, and informing Redsun of just where he had ended up.

Glancing about, he saw that he was indeed in what amounted to the barracks of his base of operations and he was not alone, around him stood several of his more…despondent disciples. They were those who had no life to return to, and thus stayed on site at all times. He allowed this, and thus they had become all the more loyal, and in return for the loyalty he allowed them more access to the power, though not as much access as he gave Christopher.

Speaking of whom.

"Heh, hehehehe. HEHEHEHEHEH! This is amazing! This is what you feel every day? No wonder you're in charge. Well, _were_ in charge anyway." Came the manic voice of his deranged Lieutenant as he strolled through the hole in the wall.

"Lionheart, what the fuck is wrong with you?" One of them growled as they went to grab his shoulder.

"Don't!" Redsun tried to warn. It wasn't that he cared for his subordinate's lives especially. But they had their uses, and that use dried up if they died.

"Piss off!" Chris growled as he grabbed the approaching teen's hand, twisting and breaking it before punching him in the throat.

"Bloody hell!" shouted several more of the Artificial Adepts as one of their own fell to the ground, unconscious or dead they couldn't tell.

"Stay out of my way, chicken shits!" Christopher snapped at the room.

Yet it was this moment of distraction that allowed Redsun to strike, building his energy quickly, he once more lashed out at the crazed teen with a bolt of lightning, catching him in the chest with the blast. Standing as the teen once more flew back Redsun turned to the surrounding teens.

"Stay out of our way, and make sure the prisoners don't escape!" He commanded before he charged after Christopher. He was enraged that he was being pushed this far by such an opponent. But in the end the rage was nothing. Just another emotion getting in the way of his goal, it would be useless to allow such a thing to control him. But that didn't mean he couldn't use it.

Charging after his subordinate he brought forth his aura, encompassing himself in a violet glow as he began pounding at his subordinate. He led the attack with a lightning fast strike to the teen's sternum, knocking wind out of his lungs, but he did not let up the attacks, he had seen what came of that. The hand he had punched with slid up the teen's body, catching Chris in the chin with an uppercut. The attack was followed by a twirling backhand, landing a clean hit in the berserk teen's temple. Yet even that did not seem to stop him.

Recovering from the quick combo, Chris brought his stolen power to bear, shrouding himself in a blood red aura before launching a combo at his 'master'. The combo was brutal and effective, yet Redsun had already gained some form of insight to how the teen was acting. He was an animal now, and was simply attacking. Most attacks were aimed for the vitals, yet some were just meant to be strikes. And it was these strikes, aimed at nothing of particular importance that Redsun allowed to connect.

Taking a blow to his shoulder, Redsun got inside Christopher's guard once more, lashing out with both fists. His opponent managed to guard his face, but Redsun still connected with his sternum, and this time he did not move into another punch. With the hand still buried in the teen's chest, he shifted it into a grab around the boy's shirt, lifting the teen and slamming him into the ground. And then with his left hand, he unleashed another blast of lightning at pointblank range.

The blast sent the rage-empowered body of Christopher through the floor and down onto the level below. Christopher recovered quickly however, but as he climbed back to his feet and glared up through the hole in the ceiling, something changed in Chris' demeanor. He saw how little damage he'd inflicted upon his enemy and knew just how thoroughly he was being beaten back, like a worthless child trying to fight against a professional kick-boxer. And with that observation came the realization that he was still not strong enough to win, still not the strongest in the world. It sent a stake of fear into his heart that he was still so pathetic. That fear instantly heightened the rage that was coursing through him. He would find a way to win! He would be the strongest in the world ever!

With a scream of pure, unadulterated wrath, Chris cupped his hands back to next to his waist as he focused all his spare power into a tight ball of pure, shifting red energy that formed between his cupped palms. With another cry to announce its completion, he sent his nameless chi-ki energy attack blasting up through the hole towards Redsun. He would destroy that man right here, right now!

As soon as he'd seen Chris gathering his energy into his palms in preparation for an energy blast, Redsun had been preparing his counterattack. He gathered his power around himself, forming his silhouette once again. Except this time, rather than disappearing once he finished powering himself up, he kept the violet aura active around him. Just as Chris launched his blazing red attack, Redsun used all his strength and power to jump forward into the energy blast. With his own energy shielding him from the burning, destructive energies, he shot like a bullet downward, a slight bulge in Chris' attack.

"No way!" Chris yelled in disbelief and fury. Before he could cancel or empower the attack further, the bulge was suddenly in front of him with Redsun's fist burying itself into Chris' torso. The unexpected power behind the punch caused Chris to reflexively cancel the attack as he was doubling over on the man's outstretched arm.

The teen could barely open his eyes after the impact before the mage was once more on him.

Right straight, left hook, twirling backhand, lightning blast, lightning blast, charging drop kick, midair flip, left straight to kidneys, right straight to throat, knee to chin. Redsun ripped into the berserk teen, never letting up. And finally after a full five minutes of unending attacks, Christopher Lionheart was left broken on the ground. He was suffering from multiple rib fractures and burns, but he would survive.

Knowing that his power was still not enough.

Redsun could feel his underling's rapidly dwindling reserves of chi and ki as he finally came to a rest in the crater that had formed during the barrage. There was still some leftover though. Not trusting the boy's mentality while there was still a trace of chi inside him, Redsun quickly jumped up and dropped back down through the crater he'd just made. He landed with a powerful dropkick upon Chris' torso, further deepening the crater and causing the boy to finally cry out in pain as his chest collapsed around Redsun's feet.

"Are you done now?" Redsun asked coldly as he stepped off the boy. He did not feel the least bit sympathetic towards his rebellious underling. But the boy didn't answer in his struggle just to breathe properly. "I'll take that as a '_yes'_, Mister Lionheart."

333

X- present time.

The fight, whatever it was, was exactly what Harry and Dudley had been hoping for. Truth in fact, it was actually better than what they had hoped for. Initially the plan had called for them being led to the Arena and causing a scene as some of their fellow prisoners were doing the same. Harry and Dudley would then filch some keys and free as many of the imprisoned Adepts as they could before making a break for it. The plan's main downside was that most of the Adepts probably wouldn't escape.

Initially anyway, but then again that was part of the plan.

It should, at this point, be noted how this scenario was so much better than what could have possibly occurred. Part of this was because of how the prison block was designed. The reason for all of this was that the bars of all the cells were not actually made of metal. It was in fact mahogany that had been painted silver and then inscribed with runes that reinforced them. This was done because A, it was a better magical conduit than metal, and B, it was over-all cheaper than the special metal meant to channel magic.

It should also be said exactly what the prison area looked like. For the most part it was a large area, separated into four hallways, with cells built into each hallway. In front of each hallway was a mahogany pillar, and in front of these four, was another pillar. These pillars were the foundation of the actual prison system. They supplied the magic that kept the prisoners locked within their cells. The pillars had a crystal built into them that should have supplied a constant stream of magic through the rune matrix along the cellblocks and 'bars' that kept the prisoners held within. Each pillar was separate and independent of the other four. Thus each would supply its own energy to the rune array.

Some might ask why have five generators? It should be noted that Redsun was a genius with thirteen years of research and discovery under his belt. And in all that time of research and experimentation, he had learned the value of redundancy backup systems. So six months ago he had devised the construction plans for the cellblock and handed it off to Christopher to oversee the construction. Christopher in turn had wholeheartedly approved of the system and had then turned to the five 'apprentices' living in the barracks and handed them each a copy so that they might get supplies. They in turn had looked over the plans and handed off part of their jobs to those that could be considered 'under them'. Which at the time was around twenty other people. These twenty gathered the supplies and then did part of the work, before then handing off the more labor intensive parts of to their own subordinates. On and on this went until finally the cells were made, and all that was left was the inscribing of the runes on the pillars. This job of course fell to one person.

Fred, the kid with a paintbrush.

Fred, being the all-intelligent person he was, took one look at the plans for all the runes he had to inscribe upon the pillars, and oh so eloquently said these great words of wisdom. "Why the flying fuck are there five batteries for one system?" Fred then in a moment of brilliance drew the runes on the first pillar… and just that pillar. For the other four he took a picture of the four sides of the first pillar and then made wallpaper of the runes and duck taped them to the other four. Because, really, those other four pillars weren't really necessary. After all, how the hell were those pillars going to get damaged anyway?

Thus, when the devastation of the ongoing battle between Redsun and Lionheart disrupted the ceiling connecting the one pillar that actually had runes inscribed on it, the only thing keeping the prisoners from snapping the wood keeping them prisoner simply wasn't there. And so, chaos ensured as the bound Adepts broke the 'bars' and proceeded to head towards the exit. Harry and Dudley at the head of them all.

"What the hell is happening up there?" Someone questioned as more loud noises and explosions wracked the structure of the building around them.

"Escape now, question later!" Dudley yelled back as they reached the stairs and began ascending, heading away from the prison and the arena.

"So you think they might try and stop us?" Harry asked with a smile.

"The prisoners are escaping!"

"You just had to open your mouth, didn't you?" someone shouted from behind them.

"Whelp, guess we're fighting our way out! Try to keep up, newbies!" Dudley shouted in glee, as he charged into the approaching Artificial Adepts. Like all the times before when he fought against them, he ripped through them with little to no effort. And this time Harry was right beside him.

Right hook, left elbow, flow into spin kick, right straight, block, counter punch. Just keep moving forward. The two of them, even bound as they were, showed exactly how much better they were than their opponents. And it wasn't just them trading blows with their captors. Every last single Adept that had been trapped within the bowels of whatever building they were in showed just how 'annoyed' they were at being held captive.

Though despite the above human skill both Harry and Dudley held over The Art, they were still fighting beings that had above human strength and speed. It was slow, but they could not help but begin to tire in their ascent.

"Bloody hell this is startin' to piss me off!" Dudley growled as he defeated yet another of their captures.

"I know what ya mean, cos'." Harry panted as he ducked under a kick.

"Just how many assholes work for the poofter, anyways?" Dudley yelled as he blocked a powerful blow.

"Not enough of them, it seems," Harry smiled as they reached ground level.

"Come on, boys, we need to get movin!" Dudley commanded the Adepts behind them.

"You mean we made it?" asked one of the hopefuls as he panted for breath.

"Yeah, but unless you start running, it won't matter!" Dudley ordered.

At Dudley's words, the many teens noticed how very quiet it had grown. No longer could they hear the sounds of battle that had raged above them. It had grown eerily quiet. In that very instant they knew, it was now or never. The Adept started pouring out into the street. Yet it would seem that the realization had come all too late. Just as the first four had cleared the door to the dark outside, a barrier snapped into place, barring all the others within.

"The day has just barely begun, and already it has proven to be a trying one," spoke the icy cold voice that all of the teens had come to loath.

"Fuck!" Dudley spat as he turned to see their captor, his immaculate clothing in tatters as he glared at both him and Harry.

"Got that right, cos'." Harry sighed as he took a ready stance.

"You would try to fight me?" Redsun asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Heh, got ta try something. I am not going to come quietly. My pride will never let me hear the end of it." Dudley nodded as he too stood beside his cousin. To his surprise it was not just him who prepared for battle. One by one every captive teen took a stance. Karate, Kung Fu, Tai Kwan Do, Kickboxing, any and all sorts of martial stances rallied behind himself and Harry, waiting for the coming battle.

"All of you?" Redsun asked in barely concealed shock. He had expected the Berserker and the Hermit to defy him, maybe even a few of the newer captives. But all of them! He knew for a fact that he had broken the will of many who stood before him. They had been crushed, broken, and subdued. Where once they had been fighters, they had become resigned to the fate he had left for them. Yet now they stood there, defying him.

And all of it could be traced to the two teens at the front.

"Unacceptable!" he growled as he brought his power to bare forcing his ill-intent upon them all, trying to cow them back into submission. "You are my property, nothing shall stand in my way!"

"Piss off!" came the dual cry from Harry and Dudley. And in that instant, they charged, ready to do battle, even if it was a losing one.

After all, everything was still going according to plan.

Fiori: Yay! I finally got off my ass and updated! Sorry for taking so long, and ending on a cliffhanger after so long. Well to be honest I'm not _that _sorry about the cliffhanger. Just the lack of updating part. Any who I'm back and hopefully I'll be able to update much faster. So you should all review as much as possible, it just might spur me to action… really!


	6. True Artists

Harry Potter and the Oriental Philosophy

Based on the concept from Tellmicus Sundance

Chapter Six: True Artists

_"To kill is the walk the path of the Asura, it is not the path of a martial artist."_ – code of the Katsujin Ken.

**X-Somewhere in London, Sunday, September 9th, 8:28 A.M.**

Some would think that searching for a missing person at such an early hour of the morning was, at best, pointless. Yet this is exactly what Song Si was doing, searching. For what could probably be the tenth time, he was once more scouring the city looking for his adoptive son. The only real difference this time was the fact that he knew what to look for now. Li had been correct; a Mage had taken their students.

_Mages_, Song honestly couldn't stand the lot of them. It wasn't for the fact that they had magic. Song could care less about that. No, what he hated was how extremely lazy they were. Sure, he had met a few that were different. But they had come from humbler roots and had to struggle to obtain their power. They had treated magic with the respect it probably deserved. It was the mages that couldn't be bothered to do things with their hands that pissed Song off.

And now one of those bastards had taken his student from him!

For what was actually the sixth time that day, Song had to stop and rein in his temper. Anger was useful, but only when you could control it. In this case, it would lead to nothing, nothing but pain. With several deep breaths, Song had once more taken control of his troubled emotions. He needed focus, and right now he finally had something to focus on.

There were four of them. Teenagers awake at these wee hours of the morning were odd. The only way he could see them being up was if they were Adepts. And while he could sense an above average Ki presence in them, there was something…_off_ about it. He couldn't quite place it, but it was almost like there was some sort of block around their Ki. This, in and of itself, was not _that_ odd since some Adepts were known to block or dull their student's access to Ki in an effort to make the student not overtly reliant on their inner energy. But that always involved pressure points, pressure points that any Adept of sufficient experience could spot.

The four teens however didn't have any blocks in any of their seven-chakra points. Rather, there was some sort of force around them that he couldn't explain properly. He could tell it was there, but he couldn't fully wrap his mind around it.

It was this realization, that he couldn't comprehend the energy field that he knew what it was. Magic. It was the only thing that would make sense. The only way to comprehend magic was to be able to use magic. It was one of the oddities of magic that hurt his head. Sure, he could identify magic, and its cousin Chi. But it was something he couldn't understand in its entirety.

Banishing the train of thoughts his mind had started wandering down, Song once again focused on the four running teens. Something had happened to block their Ki, and it somehow involved mages. He was lucky to have found them. Song just hoped that they would actually be of help in his task. Otherwise he might break something, maybe one of them.

Without hesitance, he began to move towards them, focusing on them from afar to see if he could catch any other oddities about them. And to his surprise, there were other things odd about them. They were dirty. Well, filthy would actually be more accurate. Truth is it looked like they hadn't changed their clothes in weeks. Their hair was matted and messy, and their faces were covered in grime.

If Song had been curious before, he was downright suspicious now.

It was when he finally got within hearing distance of them that he realized that, not only were they filthy, they were also panicking.

"Oh god, man! They're still in there!" Song heard one of them say.

"Come on, we have to keep moving, we got'ta find one of the Masters," one of the calmer individuals hissed.

"Screw that, man! We should hide, maybe leave the city!" another replied.

"_WHAT_!" came three voices simultaneously, as all four teens halted.

"Oh, come on, guys! As soon as he's finished with them, Redsun'll be after us!" the detractor whined.

"Bastard!" one of the teens growled lunging forward at the one who suggested hiding.

"That's enough!" Song shouted down at them. He had heard enough. The cowardly teen had mentioned the name Li had told him after he had returned from the mage-quarter.

"Master Thor!" they cried in surprise at his sudden and unexpected arrival.

"So, tell me about Redsun," he said calmly as he ignored the title they thrust at him. As of that moment, these four were his best hope of finding Dudley and Harry. So in the end, he would focus his anger on the one he truly was angry at. And when he got his hands on him, the only thing that could keep the fucker alive were Song's oaths.

333

**X- Same time, London, Redsun's base**.

Redsun was furious. It had all been going so well. And then, like the sudden strike of lightning, everything had gone to hell. First, Christopher had attacked, and as easy as the rabid teen had been to put down, the damage caused to the base would take time to repair. Yet, it was the next two issues that had caused him no end of rage.

The escape attempt led by the Hermit and Berserker, and the subsequent fight when he had locked them inside. It wouldn't have been so bad had it only been the Hermit and Berserker. After all, he had heard them as they whispered out their pathetic plans to one another, and while the riot was a nice touch, it was nowhere near original. He had expected it, and thus prepared for it, setting the wards around the main entrance and exit. Really the only reason it hadn't come down sooner was that they had been delayed because of the structural damage. Thus allowing an actual escape!

Yet, the greatest source of Redsun's rage was when they had stood against him. He had expected it of Hermit and Berserker; the two of them were too proud, too defiant, and too new. Redsun had yet to break their spirits and shatter any hope they had. In fact that had been his plan, to counter their escape so perfectly, that any remaining hope the two had would be diminished, if not outright crushed. But it had not just his two newest acquisitions to stand against him. Every last one of his captives had sided with them. That had been the real source of his rage.

Some of the teens in there had been held captive for months; they had been broken and compliant. They wouldn't have even dreamed of standing against him, the very thought would have caused them to whimper. It had only been a matter of time before Redsun had extended an invitation to them. Swear loyalty to him, and he will let them free to join his service. It had been how he had gained a majority of his followers, and he was sure it would have worked in this case. And yet, with just the actions of two boys, months of his work had been undone.

He knew the fear was still there, but it had been tarnished by the courage instilled in them by the mass breakout. The fact that four of them actually made it out of his base made it all the worse. Hope had been rewarded with _actual_ success. That was the root of the problem. They had accomplished what they set out to do. It didn't matter that it was only a partial success, the fact that it proved that escape was truly possible was the problem.

Not only that but with those four once more on the street, it was only a matter of time before the Masters began to look closely in the area. It was with this realization that soon beings more powerful than him would come looking for their disciples that made Redsun understand what his next course of actions were. He'd have to move base, and soon too. If the Hermit and Berserker were any indication, whoever taught them would have the same ability to rip through wards as they did.

But moving in and of itself was a problem. He'd have to erect new wards and design a new cellblock for the Adepts. Two days ago that wouldn't have been that big a problem. However as things were now, Redsun would be lucky if he managed to transport a quarter of his captives. His own men were injured; he himself had already been in two battles. And he _knew_ that his prisoners would try to escape again.

With things so stacked against him, he had little he could do. He needed the Adepts to be disheartened and filled with fear. He needed to break them, but how to go about such a thing. He could of course kill one of the instigators. It was in fact what he wanted to do. But to do so would sacrifice far too much. He still had little to no idea of the more advanced secrets of either teen. Besides that, to kill either Hermit or Berserker might very well drive the other to do even more to escape, thus inspiring others to try. No, killing them wasn't the answer. He needed to find some way to crush their spirits along with everyone else's. He needed them to seem weak, helpless, and above all else; he needed them to appear powerless against him.

_"Powerless, now there's a thought,"_ Redsun smirked as the beginnings of a plan formed in his head.

333

X- Ministry of Magic, Department of Law Enforcement, London, 9:00 A.M.

Tonks was not a morning person. Thus the Aurors could be forgiven their confusion when an absolutely frantic Nymphadora Tonks breezed past them on her way to the office of Amelia Bones at nine in the morning. Also taking this fact into account, that said rushing person was not a morning person, and was reduced to a state of absolute panick when she had received the call that had woken her. It could be forgiven that she was currently rushing through the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, clad in nothing but her bed clothing. An oversized grey T-shirt and purple pajama pants.

Said Auror was currently in a state of mind were she didn't actually comprehend that she was not exactly clad for the duties of which she had to perform. Truth be told, if she were made aware that she wasn't wearing work appropriate clothing, she would not have particularly cared. After all she was far too worried about the welfare of her partner to particularly care that she wasn't in uniform.

Bursting into the office of the department head, the frantic Metamorphmagus took little time to orient herself, before locking her eyes on the recipient of her worry. All things considered, Cedric didn't look nearly as beat up as she had expected. Considering what she had seen at the train station, as well as all the stories told about the man. She had expected her apprentice to be far more beat up after surviving a confrontation with the infamous Li Chang.

"Oh, thank Merlin," She sighed in relief as the young man and their boss turned to look at her. Ignoring the odd looks she was receiving, the young Aurors disposition quickly changed from relief, to anger. "Just what in the name of Merlin did you think you were doing?"

"Tonks, I-" Cedric began, only to be cut off as his partner built up speed in her rant of admonishment.

"Oh, don't you start! What the bloody hell is wrong with you? What made you think that picking a fight with Chang was a good idea, _hmm_? That has to be one of the _dumbest_ ideas _ever_. If five squads of veterans from the war against **You-Know-Who** couldn't stop the man from breaking out of a locked cell, what makes you think that a squad of green Aurors and trainees could do a thing against the man? Hmm, _well_, what's your brilliant explanation, Diggory?" the young woman demanded as her hair and eyes went through a kaleidoscope of angry colors, before finally settling on a vibrant, burning red.

"Well, umm, we were drunk," the younger man tried lamely.

"Oh, so it wasn't _just_ a bunch of green Aurors. It was a bunch of _drunken green Aurors_! What the bloody hell is _wrong_ with you? I thought you were _smarter than that!_ Obviously, I was wrong however. Because instead of the intelligent young man, who planned his way through a brutal tournament, partnered with me, I instead have a deranged Gryffindor with more _'courage'_ than survival instincts! Now, what do you have to say for yourself, Diggory?"

"Um…Sorry?" he asked weakly.

"Sorry, _and_?" Tonks demanded.

"Sorry _and_ I won't do anything that stupid ever again?" he asked hopefully.

"Oh, you can be assured you won't. Because if you do, Diggory, it will not be your own stupidity that killed you, it will be _me_ who kills you, once I get my hands on you," Tonks promised the pale young man as her rant died down.

"Ehem, are you quite finished yet, Auror Tonks?" Amelia finally asked, assured that by now there was no longer a risk of her head being bitten off.

"Wha—Oh, bollocks. I'm in the ministry, aren't I?" Tonks asked as she came back to herself, and noticed for the first time, just whose office she was in. And who had been present during her entire rant.

"You are indeed, and I must compliment you on your sleepwear, very functioning. Nothing at all like the nightgowns Malkin always sells…" Amelia Bones replied.

"Uh, sorry, boss. Won't happen again!" Tonks replied quickly as her hair betrayed her embarrassment.

"Oh, think nothing of it. I must say that was a rather impressive job you did there. I myself was preparing to admonish young Mister Diggory here before you entered. However, my planned speech seems rather lacking when compare to the one you gave instead. If you ever tire of being in the field, I'm certain we could benefit from a new instructor in the academy to whip young trainees into shape." The head Auror smiled coldly.

"Umm, thank you?" the Metamorphmagus replied softly, unsure if she was truly being praised, or if she was instead being mocked.

"On the other hand, I must tell you that I am not that big a fan of being interrupted when debriefing one of our Aurors," Madame Bones continued, her eyes narrowing sharply.

"I'm sorry, boss," Tonks spoke quickly.

"Noted. Now, be aware, your conduct and attire are only acceptable because I understand your concern for your partner. In the future, do try to remember the proper protocol." Bones ordered, leaving no doubts to what could happen if she failed to comply.

"Understood," The young Auror said as she stood at attention.

"Good. Now Mister Diggory."

"Yes, boss," the only male in the room replied as he too straightened himself before the head Auror.

"Now that the mandatory scolding is out of the way, I would like to congratulate you on surviving. Not many people can walk away from Chang unscathed. It's a miracle all twelve of you are still alive." Tonks could only nod in affirmation with her boss.

In all the stories that existed about Li Chang, few ever spoke of survivors. The only exceptions of course were the tales of survivors being buried under a mountain of corpses, half dead themselves. Though most people should have wondered where all the stories came from if there weren't any survivors. But then again, most mages don't have common sense. Cedric however actually was starting to develop such a sense.

"I don't think it was that miraculous, boss," he said honestly.

"Oh, and why do you think that?" Bones asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Chang could have killed us all in an instant, he just chose not to. Chang said there would be no reason to. It was very odd." Cedric added as an afterthought.

"Wait, 'Chang said'? You actually _talked_ to him?" Tonks asked incredulously.

"Well, yeah," Cedric replied sheepishly.

"And what did you learn from him, Diggory?" Bones asked seriously.

"Not much, though I kinda sent him after Redsun," Cedric answered.

"You did what now?" Bones asked in surprise.

"Well, considering Redsun's interest in Chang's apprentices, I thought Chang would be interested in him. And it seems that I was right, though luckily they probably won't be friendly with one another." Cedric continued.

"Well, that is a relief. We might just get lucky and they'll kill each other. Is there anything else, Diggory?" Bones asked with a small smile.

"Yeah but… well, something Chang said bothers me. He told me he doesn't like killing, and will only do so if he genuinely has no other choice," Cedric continued.

"_Ohh?_ And why would he _need_ to kill Harry Potter?" Tonks scoffed.

"That's exactly what I asked him, and you know he pointed something out. Who said Chang ever killed him?" Cedric asked.

After an indeterminate amount of silence, Bones asked, "Mr. Diggory, are you suggesting what I actually think you're suggesting?"

"Can't be, everyone knows Chang killed Potter. It was in the papers and everything," Tonks argued, her hair racing through colors.

"Yeah, I thought that too, but where's the evidence? And here's another good point. Why would a monster who butchers children take students?" Cedric pointed out.

The contemplative silence that followed that question lasted a lot longer than one would have thought. Many probably would have jumped with joy at the very prospect of one of their world's heroes continued survival. But in this case, the questions were more carefully considered. For in this case it involved the stories of a legendary monster in human form.

Tonks in particular was the most conflicted, due in part to the knowledge her cousin had imparted. Knowledge that she couldn't share, since it would mean she knew the location of one of Britain's Undesirables. But the thought that Chang would take students was weird. He was supposed to be a bloodthirsty monster, a killer who reveled in battle. The only reason he was in Britain again was for his blood tournament. But if that was true, why was he teaching others his power, wouldn't that just make it easier for them to kill him later? So many things just didn't add up, and now she had this little bombshell dropped on her sleep-deprived lap.

"This is a lot to take in," she said quietly, as she slumped down into one of the chairs in the office.

"That it is. Tell me, Diggory, what do you think of these matters?" Bones asked the only male in the room.

"I'm not sure, boss. I grew up _knowing_ Li Chang was a killer. But then he goes and spares my friends and me, and alludes to what happened to the Boy-Who-Lived. The really creepy thing is that he's right. There isn't any real evidence that supports the Prophet's claim that Chang killed Potter. What am I supposed to think after that?" Cedric asked in confusion.

"This is big," Tonks said in calm detachment.

"That it is. Now, the question is: what are we going to do about it. We can't just tell people that Potter _might_, just might, still be alive. Can you imagine how people will react? It would be a political shit-storm, and with all that's going on right now we just don't need that. So for right now, this knowledge doesn't leave this room." Bones commanded.

"So what, we're just supposed to do nothing!" Tonks asked incredulously.

"No, you two will investigate this quietly, you will tell no one what we suspect, and if you discover that Potter is in fact still alive, then you are to do everything in your power to rescue him and bring him before me." Bones continued.

"And if he is dead?" Tonks asked sadly.

"Then you make sure he has a proper resting place."

"And if he doesn't want to come?" Cedric asked quietly.

"Then you make sure that there isn't a proper resting place for the body."

333

X- Northern Scotland, Hogwarts, same time

Cho Chang had always been an early riser. She wasn't quite sure what it was that drove her to wake so early in the morning, she just did. Even when she had trouble sleeping or had only gained a few hours rest, she always managed to wake up early. As a result, she had already been awake for roughly three hours.

She had gone through her mandatory morning rituals, washed herself, and taken care of her long black tresses. But it was the hours that came after that, that always managed to play on her nerves, especially on the weekends.

During the weekdays, her habit of early rising wasn't so much a problem, as it allowed her to finish the essays for her classes, and then go to breakfast before hurrying along to class. But on days like this, when all her work was already completed, and everyone else was asleep, all she had were the books in Ravenclaw dorm to occupy her. And right now they did nothing for the young woman.

Right now, her mind was consumed by one fact. It had taken all her attention, her focus slipping towards it at all hours. No matter what was going on, her mind would return to it. Even her dreams were consumed by this fact. She could not escape it. Try as she might, the realization just kept creeping up on her.

Her uncle had truly returned.

Before this day, it had only been a rumor, a rumor that had cropped up several times over the years. Yet, like each time before, it had always been debunked. Now, however, there was confirmation. Worst of all, the secret of her relation to the man had been revealed. It may have never been a great secret, but a secret nonetheless. In truth, the only reason no one had known was because no one had asked.

Odd though it may have been, she was one of a minority in Hogwarts; even smaller in number than the ever-dwindling supply of purebloods. She was Asian and, as of right now, the amount of Asians in Hogwarts could be counted on one hand with fingers left over. Thus, in their great ignorance, the populace of Hogwarts had merely considered her last name to be common amongst those with yellow skin. Shallow though it was, Cho was actually quite glad for that bit of ignorance as it kept her relation with a murderer secret.

Yet now it was out in the open, and it had not been a pleasant week for her. Everywhere she had gone, people had looked at her differently, cautiously and fearful. Her own friends and housemates looked at her differently. Well, save Loony Lovegood, but she was crazy so it didn't really matter. And even the Professors looked at her differently. Just yesterday, McGonagall had blatantly ignored her in class. In the end, she was being alienated by the entirety of the castle and it was all because of her relation to a man she hated.

"So, you are up early again? The nargles must be driving you mad," came a dreamy voice from the stairs. There stood Luna Lovegood, still in her pajamas, an odd neon pink thing with lime green polka dots at random intervals and in various sizes.

"What do you want, Lovegood?" Cho asked bitterly, ignoring the crazy speak that came after the sane words.

"What is 'Kung Fu'?" Luna asked, surprisingly bluntly for once.

"What?" Cho asked in confusion.

"Hermione mentioned it, said what the boys at the station did looked like it. I thought you might know," Luna continued, disappointment leaking into her voice.

"Why would you think I know, huh? Because of who I'm related to?" Cho asked scathingly.

"Yes," Luna replied calmly, unaffected by Cho's anger.

"Wha—?" Of all the answers that Cho had expected, that hadn't been one of them. She had expected the dreamy girl to dance around the subject, to defend herself from the accusation. To do anything to appear as if she didn't suspect her of being like the man she was related to. But the honest truth was not something she expected.

"You should close your mouth, otherwise something might nest in it," Luna continued, gently reaching out as she did, and closing Cho's mouth for her.

"So what, you think I'm like him?" Cho asked, trying to recover from her shock.

"Are you?"

"No!" Cho defended hotly.

"Then, you aren't. I just thought there was a chance you might know. I'm rather curious about those two." Luna continued.

"Why? They were probably just as monstrous as _him_," Cho spat out.

"Perhaps, but even so. Have you ever seen anything quite like that? Magic is filled with many mysteries. Yet in all of daddy's time searching them out, he has never come across something like that." Luna answered.

"Whatever they did, they could have only gotten that power through dark rituals. People just can't obtain power like that through any other method." Cho argued.

"And yet they didn't do anything to us until we attacked them. And even then, they refused to take our lives. Why would bloodthirsty killers, trained by the greatest monster since **You-Know-Who**, be so willing to spare our lives? That is a much better thing to consider, rather than your lack of popularity." Luna replied as she walked to the bathroom.

"What?"

"You shouldn't focus too much on what people think of you. You'll go mad." Luna replied.

"And you're one to talk," Cho muttered. But she refused to see the logic in the dreamy blond's words. Lovegood was mad, that was it. The only reason why the two fighters hadn't killed anyone was because they were playing, they wanted to spread fear. That was it.

After all, killers don't care for the lives of others.

333

"So, this is the result of your great plan?" asked an accusatory voice sounded from a cell.

"Hey, we were more worried about your sorry asses! Try being thankful next time you speak!" Dudley growled.

"Lay off, Dud, he's just scared. And possibly brain damaged." Things are still going according to plan. Harry spoke as his hands ran through signs.

"Hey!"

"Heh, got that right. So, how long 'til our _courteous host_ will grace us with his presence?" Dudley replied. If you say so.

Suffice to say, the fight against Redsun had not gone well for the group of captive teens. While it was true that they not been that heavily injured, they had still been rather handily defeated by the Artificial Adept. Hell, they had been thrown around like rag dolls. But they had succeeded in a number of their goals. The first being the hope granted to their fellow captives. After all, hope was intangible and incredibly strong. Before the fight, many of them had only the faintest glimmer of hope left in them. In that fight, however, it was not the dying sparks that had confronted the powerful darkness threatening them all, rather a raging inferno. They had been beaten sure, but the hope was still there. And above all else, it was that fire which would lead to Redsun's downfall.

The other objective was getting at least some of their fellow captives out of the hellhole, and then ensuring that they managed to get away. That was something of an ace in the hole, all things considered. They had confidence that their plan would work, but it never hurt to have a backup. Harry and Dudley knew their masters better than just about anyone else, save how well their masters knew each other. The boys knew that they were still scouring the city looking for them. Thus it was more than a little likely that one or the other would come across the four boys they had managed to free. Combined with the tail end of their plan, it was very likely that they would all be free by the time night fell.

"Shouldn't be too long, we royally pissed him off. Tyrants never like it when slaves rebel," Harry replied with a shrug.

"So what, we just wait until he comes and kills us for disobeying?" one of their fellow captives asked incredulously.

"Heh, nah. That ain't gonna happen. He's more pissed at me and Dud." Harry replied with a smile.

"And he can't kill _us_," Dudley finished for his cousin.

"No, I can't," spoke the familiar voice of their captor.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear," Harry remarked jovially. Time to wind the show up to the final act.

"Your defiance has been noted, Potter, both in the fight and earlier than that. Did you really think you could escape here unscathed?" Redsun asked dispassionately.

"Meh, unscathed, probably not. Escape, however, I am assured of," Harry replied calmly.

"So, how does it feel to know that the masters will be here soon?" Dudley asked, playing his part perfectly.

"So that was the unspoken part of you plan?" Redsun asked cryptically. Harry and Dudley had to school their features very carefully to ensure they gave nothing away.

"So, figured it out, did you? So what? You know they'll be coming. And no matter what kind of defenses you've set up, it won't be enough to stop either of them," Dudley growled out.

"Your faith in your masters is misplaced, boy. By the time they find this place, we shall already be gone." Redsun spat back.

"Oh yeah, and how's that gonna work? You try and move us now, and…well, that little brawl upstairs will be just the prelude to the larger act." Harry replied with a smirk.

"You forget something though, boy. You will be _powerless_ to do anything." Redsun spat back as he reached through the bars, gripping Harry's shoulders and bringing their eyes together. "You forget just what I need you for. It is high time I remind both you and your Muggle friend just what your purpose in life is." Redsun smiled.

"**Do—Your—Worst—Mage,"** Harry growled.

"Gladly."

777

It had taken longer than the norm for them to be ushered into the draining room. But it was the nature of what he was doing that made this waste necessary. Within the room was each and every last prisoner he had, detained by his servants and shackled to some of the tables where it would be allowed. All were faced towards the very center of the room where Redsun stood at. Strapped to the tables on either side of him were Harry and Dudley.

"Some of you might be wondering why you are here." Redsun spoke to the captive audience. "Others may even have a suspicion. Let me assure you, this is necessary. Before you are the Hermit and Berserker, the strongest disciples currently active in the city, and the reason why you are all here."

_'Just keep talking,'_ both teens thought, unaware of just how in sync they were at the moment. _'It only gives me more time to prepare.'_

"They thought to stand against me, planned rebellion, and led you all to battle in the misguided hope that they could lead you to freedom. But let me tell you something: this is not but a fool's dream. You all should know your options by now. You can live your lives as batteries or you can join with my forces. There are no other options. Their plan relied heavily on things they have no control over, and thus was doomed to failure. They have chosen their path, and now you shall see the consequences of their actions." Redsun continued.

Turning towards the two captives, he could only smirk as everything came together. He needed the fighters to appear powerless. What better way than to drain them of what gave them their power before their peers and make the procedure as painful as possible? With a malicious glee in his actions, Redsun turned towards the ignition runes for both tables and fed his power into them.

Like before, he was surprised with their reactions. The Ki draining procedure was the exact opposite of the procedure meant to give Ki to another. While the usual case would have been for the two boys to scream in pain, he was mildly surprised to see them withhold their screams. Rather, they merely arched their backs and strained their faces. It was clear to tell that they were in pain. But they should have been in so much agony that they screamed until their throats were raw. Yet they were still defiant, even in this.

That would not do.

He needed them weak, and while they may appear weak now, it was not enough. They weren't screaming, and that was what he truly needed. He needed them to scream, and be in so much pain that they would do anything to make it stop. With no scream tearing through their throats, they were still in control. But he had more methods to make them scream.

With cold assurance, he upped the speed of the drain, reasoning to himself that there was no need to worry. He had been going rather slowly at first, wishing for the screams to last. To go for so long that the horrible sound of agony would be embedded within the very souls of the other captives. But it would appear that the pain from such a draining would not be enough to bring forth the screams he needed. The increased speed of the draining would do two things. Maximize the pain, but lessen the amount of time they could spend in agony.

Yet even when the speed increased, he could see only the barest signs that they were experiencing more pain. The hands and teeth were clenching, the eyes narrowed in concentration. To muscle past the pain, he presumed. But still they did not scream. Even when he upped the drain speed, yet again, no scream echoed from them. It was getting to the point where, he himself was becoming frustrated at the pair. Nothing had gone his way ever since he had captured them. And even now, when he had them at his tender mercies, they would still not comply with him. So it was with this in mind that he upped the draw a third time.

His first clue that something was wrong was when the Muggle companion of Potter let out a strangled gasp before going very still. It was with a fast-growing sense of dread that he realized what he was in danger of doing. Quickly he moved to stop the draining, but already Potter had let out his own strangled gasp and faded away. He stopped the draining quickly, hoping that they had merely passed out form the excruciating pain. But, alas, that was not what his instruments were telling him.

They were dead.

Moving quickly he set about correcting this mistake. They were simply too valuable to him. Their techniques, their energies. Potter alone had more mysteries than his entire collection combined. How he harnessed his energies in tandem, his styles, everything about him could only advance him forward. Berserker too was an oddity. Even for an Adept, he was far too strong and capable of things Redsun couldn't believe. If he could only grasp the iron skin technique from the boy, that alone would be worth half his combined forces dying in battle against the boy.

Moving towards the set of Runes designed to start the inverse of what he did, he started the procedure to gift all the energy he had just taken from them, plus extra. It was standard for this sort of event, since it had occurred in the past. When he had drained Christopher for the first time, he had made the mistake of taking too much from the boy. Christopher had been dead a total of two minutes before he had reworked the ritual, returning all the energy he had taken back to the boy. After that, it had happened several more times with a varying frequency. It helped him correct several mistakes, and perfect the act of gifting Ki upon someone. For in the early days, every captive was a precious commodity he could not afford to lose.

He felt the energy leave the crystals they had gathered into, and quickly flow back into the bodies from which they came. Acting as a 'defibrillator', as his subordinates told him once. They should have started breathing by now as the energy flowed through them. Yet still his instruments showed them as having no life signs. They didn't breathe, their hearts didn't beat.

…They were dead.

"Damn it," he cursed in rage, as he turned towards the gathered crowd, intent on salvaging this mess. He motioned for his subordinates to remove the restraints and prep the bodies for disposing. He then looked towards his remaining captives as two of his men went to remove the restrains from the corpses. He could see the lifeless stares, the tears in their eyes. Fear had returned.

He could work with that.

"This is the price for disobedience. You can work with me, or I can drain you until there is nothing left to take. You have your options and you can—what are you looking at?" He stopped suddenly. He had been prepared for fear to set in more as his speech continued, and yet… The tears were drying, the faces brightening maliciously, and his own men retracting in fear.

"Urk!" Redsun heard from behind him. Spinning, he was just in time to be struck across the face by one of his men.

It was not a punch, a kick, or even a bolt of Ki that stuck him. Rather, his own man had been swung like a club and hit him clear in the face. He was completely unprepared for such an act that he missed the one who had swung his subordinate. But he did not miss the call.

"Fore!" a rather jovial voice shouted maliciously. Redsun had to shake his head to clear the delirium form his head. There was just no way he could be hearing that voice ever again! After all, it was impossible for the dead to speak with the living!

And they were dead.

Nevertheless he could only look at the figure that had swung his nameless subordinate at him. At first he couldn't believe that he was truly seeing whom he perceived was standing there. But the figure by his side was more than enough proof. Yes, they were standing there, and no…

They weren't dead.

"How?" he could only question as the shock began to wear thin.

"Heh, see, this is why Mages shouldn't rush blindly into our turf. You just don't know what you'll find," Berserker smiled as he dropped his impromptu club.

"_But you were __**dead**_!" Redsun shouted, his aura flaring as his rage built. They had made a mockery of him, attacked him, and fooled him. And now they stood, unbound, with full access to their own power. Ready to fight against him with all they had.

"Haven't you heard of 'Feigned Death Meditation'? Rather simple when you actually know what to do." Hermit shrugged as his own aura springing up around him.

"But that ain't important right now," Berserker smiled as he too flared his aura.

In an instant all three of them had moved, and Redusn realized he was in a distinct disadvantage. This wasn't like the first two times he fought them. The first time it was merely a tired and injured Hermit. The second time had been against both boys, but they had been shackled and unable to truly fight him. Now, however, they had both each other and access to their own power. Even if it was only about half their total reserves in each, he would still be hard pressed to fight them both.

This was proven when he only managed to block the right straight from Hermit, with Berserker plowing right through his distracted guard and landing a devastating uppercut to his chest, launching him through the ceiling.

"Harry, you get everyone else, I'll hold him till you're done!" Dudley shouted as Redsun plowed through the ceiling.

"You sure?" Harry asked, even as he moved to attack the mustering Artificial Adepts.

"Yeah, I only need to hold out till you can join in. I'll try to leave something for you to do," Dudley smirked before jumping up to engage the crazed Mage. Harry in turn had already moved to attack to token forces before him. There were only about ten of them. The others must have been busy prepping to move base, he realized.

Above Harry, Dudley had once more locked in battle with the crazed leader of the Artificial Adepts. Leading with a right straight he was unsurprised that the attack was blocked, but the method used was different. As his fist sped towards his opponent, he felt something…off about the air around his foe. This feeling was confirmed to be something to be weary of when his fist, not of his own volition, slowed.

Moving quickly Redsun deflected the blow and lashed out with one of his own, striking Dudley in the shoulder. With a jolt, Dudley moved back, examining the hand that had struck him. It had not moved with the speed or even the power necessary to cause the pain he felt in his shoulder, and then there was the weird heaviness of the air dampening his own blows. With a quick realization, he began to build power into his arms and legs before once more charging forward.

Lashing out with a devastating right hook, his suspicions were again confirmed when the air became thick and heavy, dampening his blow. But this time his foe didn't have a chance to counter. With a satisfied grin on his face he released the energy with in his right arm, shattering the bubble of magic around his foe, before twirling into a vicious left backhand. This time the blow hit, no longer impeded by whatever shields the mage had wrought in the air around himself. With a satisfied crash he watched his opponent fly back.

Only to halt in midair just as Harry cleared the hole in the floor. Both boys eyed the floating figure wearily as the felt power built up within him. In the distance they could hear the sounds of shouting and destruction. Doubtlessly the freed captives were rushing towards true freedom.

"You have cost me!" Redsun growled as lightning began to arc in his hands, gathering slightly in his palms.

"Bring it!" Harry growled as he released a bolt of emerald Chi at their foe. With a wave of his hand, Redsun deflected the bolt upwards. But he wasn't ready for when Dudley released a Ki bolt of his own, plowing directly into Redsun's chest, pushing him back even further. As their foe once more tried to regain his bearings, both teens charged forward intent on unleashing everything they could on him in such an enclosed space.

In tandem they worked once more, Harry threw a roundhouse kick intent on striking their foe in temple. But as before with Dudley a force slowed the kick, allowing the mage time to deflect the blow and potentially counter. But, in this case, he fought two foes and Dudley was not about to let his cousin be struck. With a quick left straight, he had pushed past the barrier, hitting Redsun in the sternum. Yet this time, their foe was not stymied by their efforts, rather he in turn lashed out against the two.

In a move eerily similar to Dudley, Redsun gripped Harry's ankle, and swung the teen towards his cousin like a club. The attack struck the larger teen in the chest, Redsun released Harry as he did, which sent both teens skirting back. The older mage was quick to press his advantage, firing a quick blot of lighting at the two as the scrambled to untangle themselves, pushing the two further away from him. Again, Redsun fired another bolt. In this case however, the two saw it and dodged past the blast, letting it hit the wall behind them. But Redsun was far from done pushing his advantage.

Charging forward, he struck at Dudley, forcing the teen onto the defensive. His left straight was deflected by the teen, as was his follow up right hook. But his knee was able to break through the teen's defenses. Embedding itself in Dudley's chest and pushing the air from his lungs. Though just as he was about to continue his advantage Harry was once more upon him.

A quick combo pushed him away from Dudley, yet Harry was caught off guard when his wrist was caught and Redsun twirled behind him, delivering a brutal elbow to the small of his back. But he was far from through, continuing with his momentum, Redsun tossed Harry towards the wall. Recovering quickly midair, Harry rebounded from the wall and charged once more at the Mage.

Dudley too had recovered and made his presence known as he rammed his fist into their foe's back, sending him directly into Harry's flying kick. The kick connected with the mage's nose with a satisfying crunch, sending him off balance. Yet right before he could crash onto the ground, his movements halted, and once more Redsun righted himself.

The two could only glare as Redsun picked himself up and floated before them. And just as they had before, the two charged their foe; Dudley attacked with a quick straight as Harry lashed out with a kick. This time however Redsun managed to catch both of them, twirling and throwing them both behind him. One after the other, they impacted with the rapidly crumbling wall, and like before Redsun took this opportunity to launch a bolt of lightning towards the two.

Acting on instinct, Dudley pushed his cousin out of the way, taking to full brunt of the attack and getting launched through the wall into the morning light of London.

333

X- 9:30 a.m., London, BBC news office

Brit was a reporter, a reporter who had been up all night, and currently was running on the fumes of caffeinated beverages. All night he and his cameraman, Paul had been riding around London, listening to reports on police scanners and various reports over the phone, all in the hopes of one thing.

Catching a fight on camera.

Not just any fight, mind you. The fight they were trying to find was one of the fights between the so-called 'super martial artists' that had supposedly popped up in London. While it was true most people would rather just look the other way as someone told them they were shooting a movie, some were not so blind. It had started small at first, reports in the tabloid section of people performing incredible feats. But slowly it had grown.

By now it was common to catch glimpses of the tail end of whatever fight had happened. Parking lots, alleyways and parks, reduced to so much rubble and a number of figures retreating into the distance in impossible manners. But not just that, _things_ were being spotted. Reports about fairy tale creatures that just couldn't exist: fairies, goblins, and hell last week someone called talking about a werewolf of all things.

With all that going on, it was no surprise when an ultimatum was sent out. Find proof, one way or the other, that the fights were either staged or real. The ones who did could look forward to a promotion and a raise in pay. That had been a month ago. And not a single person had found any proof, one way or the other.

So as it stood, Brit stepped out of the van, ready to return the equipment to the boss. And he was absolutely miserable, sore, and hungry for something real. He could only look as another of his coworkers stepped out of their car, a mocking smile on their face.

"No luck again, Brit?" he smirked. Brit in turn could only groan as his coworker chuckled at his expense.

"Aw, cheer up, Brit, we'll catch a break sooner or later," Paul said cheerfully.

"And how exactly are we going to catch that break? The fights are always over before anyone can get to the location. Face it, the only way that we'll see one of these fights is if it breaks out right in front of us." Brit grumbled.

Paul looked like he was about to say something naively hopeful and optimistic. However, when a building that they hadn't even know existed was suddenly next to the T.V. station and a figure was sent careening out of the wall, crashing into his annoying coworker's car, it was moot point.

Within the crumpled wreckage of the car sat a teenager. He had dirty blond hair, ragged clothing, and should have been dead. Yet they could hear him groan as he picked himself out of the wreckage.

"That fucking _hurts_," the figure grumbled.

"Tell me about it!" said another figure as a teen with wild black hair landed beside him. He continued as both teens looked towards the hole they had just come out of. "That guy just won't quit."

Brit, of course, followed their gaze and could only stare at the figure that literally floated out of the rubble. His red hair messed and falling around his face, lightning arcing across his hands as he glared with malevolent intent at the two teens.

"_You have cost me __**far too much**__!_" the man shouted at the teens.

"Blow it out your ass!" the blond shouted as he flung a ball of light at the man.

All the while Brit could only stare in absolute wonder. It was real…and he was there to witness it.

"See, I told you we'd get lucky," Paul said with a manic grin as he began to film the bizarre spectacle before them.

333

X-Within Redsun's base

Christopher could hear the sounds of battle as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He could hear the shouts of the captives as they began to overwhelm the forces within the base. He could feel the building shake as his _master_ fought. And with what remained of his Ki senses, he discerned the exact moment the wards hiding the building failed and the battle spilled into the streets.

He wasn't quite too sure how he felt at the moment about how the battle was going. On one hand, he would relish the thought that someone finally smacked that _overconfident bastard of a mage_ off his high and mighty throne. But the fact that that person wasn't going to him stung at his pride. He hadn't been strong enough to even come close to defeating Redsun. Even with magic coursing through his veins and making him stronger than anyone else, it hadn't been enough.

On the other hand, he had enjoyed the feeling of power the mage had gifted him with. Both the stolen Ki and magic had pushed him farther than he thought he could have done on his own. That the power he had wielded was still only a fraction of what he could have if he continued to follow after Redsun. It was humbling to say the least. But it would all go away if they were caught.

Christopher knew that as powerful as Redsun was, as powerful as Hermit and Berserker were, there were those in the city more powerful still; the Master-class fighters. Those who trained people like Hermit and Berserker. The fighters that had brought their students to London to show off the power of the next generation of their schools, along with those who had come seeking students to pass their knowledge down to.

If they appeared, it was over.

333

X-In the streets of London

The battle was fiercer than any Harry, Dudley, or even Redsun had yet experienced. With Harry and Dudley, it was probably the realization that they truly could lose their lives if they lost the fight. Before, the battles had never been so intense. Despite the heated environment of the Convergence, every person they had fought had been practitioners of Katsujin Ken. The possibility of death had been a distant thought in their minds. Even in the borderline insane and risky training they had undertook to get to the level they were at had been carefully supervised by their masters to ensure they survived.

For Redsun, it was the simple fact that he had never had to truly push himself before. In either magic or the way of the Adept, he had never had to throw his full effort into it. Magic had come easily to him, spells and theory doing little to slow him down. Even in the few duels he had participated in out of boredom had been easy. Against the Adepts he had personally defeated, his mind had easily picked apart their cobbled together techniques and skills to the point where he could replicate them for himself. Even his own 'disciple', who had been his toughest opponent prior to this, had been easy once he picked apart the flow.

Now however, he saw just how _little _he truly knew about this world he had tried to conquer.

The battle raged back and forth as the three of them fought. Attacks, blocks, parries, and counters traded at increasing speed across the morning streets of London. Blasts of energy tore through the air as lightning lashed out in dizzying patterns. Not a moment they were still or quiet as the steady sound of combat blanketed the area, explosions bursting forth at random intervals as they leveled their abilities at one another. Finally a lull was reached as Redsun threw the two teens to opposite ends of the street, as he himself stood in the center of the road.

But even then it was far from quiet. Battle still raged across the morn as Harry and Dudley's fellow Adepts broke the fragile bonds that held them in place and locked horns with the hastily gathered forces Redsun had mustered. The two Legacy Adepts couldn't spare a smile for that however, the battle was still on. But it did bring a small bit of relief to them to know that even if they fell, they had won. Redsun would never be able to recover from this. Too much had been lost, and too many of the Adepts fought for their freedom.

They had won the war, now they just needed to win the battle.

Harry had not expected the fight to be easy, but neither did he think things would be this difficult. He had known that Redsun was powerful, not a Master, but still powerful. But for Redsun to last this long on even footing between him and Dudley was scary. He didn't have an exact idea on what sort of training Dudley had underwent to turn him into the Berserker, but he knew his own training. He had battled _dragons_ with his bare-hands! That was a claim that only one other man could make and not be bluffing.

The Adepts had expected the lightning bolts, but Redsun's barrier thing was something they hadn't. That he'd kept it up this far was telling. Redsun had to have a massive reserve, stolen though it might be, of chi. The knowledge that he'd been capable of amassing so much set off all kinds of warning bells within Harry and Dudley's minds.

Redsun was a danger to many things, and the longer he was allowed to roam free, the more he'd try to achieve power at the expense of others. With this in mind Harry picked himself up from the latest hole that he'd been knocked through and regarded his opponent, his enemy, the threat. He could not afford to lose; to do so would put too many others in danger.

Harry's charge could have been called reckless. Yet at the speed he moved, most wouldn't have even had a chance to see the many openings that were made available due to his actions. Redsun was no different. One moment, Harry had been over twenty feet away from him, the next Harry was already in front of him, foot buried in his chest.

Redsun flew back from the powerful blow, sailing back and towards his second opponent. Dudley, seeing their enemy so off balance, took the opportunity to land a powerful uppercut to the flying mage, and for once there was no barrier to block off such an attack. The blow rocketed the mage back, sending him once again towards Harry. Dudley had to suppress a smirk as he felt his cousin focus his energy into his hand. He knew the stance his cousin had taken, and could guess what would come next as the energy continued to gather towards his cousin's hand. Moving quickly Dudley leapt to the side and not a moment too soon,

A stream of powerful energy, the same color as his cousin's eyes, came forth from Harry's hand. Like a lance of liquid fire, it came forth and consumed Redsun in a flash of emerald light. The explosion the impact kicked up was greater than any of the blasts that had come before.

Idly, Dudley couldn't help but name the technique that had been launched. He'd had of course seen it before, **Burnout**. A blast of concentrated energy that resembled the flames of a dragon more than it did a blast of life force. It was one of the more devastating techniques in Harry and Li's arsenal. Though Dudley could only smirk as he saw Redsun hurtled back from the blast, hurt but still conscious. That meant the next move was his. And far be it for him to let Harry have the last blow!

With a manic glint to his eyes, he called forth the dregs of his remaining energy, just as he knew Harry had done for the **Burnout**. This would be the last attack, if this didn't take him out, then they were through and their only chance was if Lady Luck favored them both. And neither of them was overtly fond of depending on abstract personifications. The cousins would put their faith in the skills they had worked for over luck any day. With that in mind, Dudley met the still flying figure with a Ki laced haymaker. The punch itself was nothing fancy; rather it was the excess of Ki gathered into his fist that he detonated on impact. That was the beauty of the **Tiger's Fang.** Any blow would work for it, so long as it impacted with the enemy.

Neither teen let their guards down as Redsun once more went sailing away from them. Nor did they relax when he crashed through a wall into a building. Both knew that a single moment of inattentiveness could be their undoing. Thus they remained alert as the smoke cleared from the rubble. One minute, two, two, three, six minutes they watched and waited for their enemy to rise from the rubble and begin the fight anew. Yet the dust cleared and the rubble settled, and still no crazed mage came. It was over, they had won.

"Oh shit, we actually did it." Dudley panted as he finally collapsed under his own weight.

"Yeah, we did, huh?" Harry asked lightly as he too felt exhaustion take its toll on him. They were both tired, from the fight, from their imprisonment, from the drain earlier. Really, it was nothing short of their own stubbornness that kept them upright still.

"That was some fight, Harry. Though, I say that this was my victory." Dudley added with a tired grin.

"Your victory, huh? And what makes you say that?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Hey, I got the last hit in, right? Well that means I won, which bring the count up to 71 to 70, in my favor." Dudley continued.

"Bullshit, this was my plan. If anything, it's still 70 to 70, neither in favor." Harry argued back.

"You're just jealous."

"Am not,"

"Are too,"

"Am not, _Diddykin's_."

"You really want to go there, _Mage_?"

By now both teens had picked themselves up off the ground and had walked towards the other. They stood dangerously close together as they glared into the other's eyes. Neither gave an inch, and they both looked ready to start yet another fight right then and there. Yet due to some unknown signal, they began to snicker. Slowly, but surely, that snickering evolved into chuckling, before finally breaking down into full-blown belly laughter.

"We, hehehehe, we did it! Hehehe." Harry laughed as he leaned on his cousin.

"Hahahahaha! We did, hahahaha!" Dudley agreed.

There they stood in the middle of the street, broken and bleeding. Their clothes torn and dirty, their faces and chests blackened by soot, dust, and sweat. Harry himself was missing half his shirt, and his jeans had lost both legs at the knees. Dudley in contrast still had most of his pants, but had lost his entire shirt in the confrontation. Yet still they stood, laughing in triumph as they supported the other in their efforts to stay standing.

It was a rather touching scene many would take pleasure in seeing, as it was currently being broadcast live across all of Great Britain. Yet such moments never last as long as they ought, and all too soon things took a turn for the worse.

"I can't believe how… tough… Oh shit!" Harry trailed off as both teens instantly focused back on the rubble as it began to shift violently.

With a roar of pure and unadulterated rage, Redsun burst from the crumpled ruins of the store, his violet aura wrapped around him as he stood once more under the morning sky.

"You!" he screamed as he looked at the two teens that could barely stay standing.

"Unreal," Dudley couldn't help but mutter.

"You have cost me far too much, you insignificant worms!" Redsun spat as he launched a both of lightning at the two.

Pushing off from one another, Harry and Dudley could barely stumble back as the bolt of power detonated in the spot they had stood in previously, sending debris flying wildly. All the while, Redsun continued his rant.

"My base is in ruins, my batteries have escaped, and you even dare to fight against _me_! _**Me**_! The next coming of Merlin! You will both pay for your impertinence! I would have let you both live had you proven useful. But now, _now_ I will simply have to kill you both!" Redsun ranted as he continued to fire bolts of lightning at the pair.

It was all they could do just to keep dodging. Everything scrap of energy they had regained had already been spent, and fatigue was rapidly setting in. They were literally running off of the fumes of adrenalin as they pushed their bodies to dodge the bolts of energy. But they knew what would come soon; they were realistic when it came to things like this. And so the moment finally came, the bolts began to connect.

It didn't take long after the first bolt stuck Harry, just a few more seconds before they had both collapsed into a heap in the street. Gazing back at the perpetrator they could only think of what was to be lost as he loomed over them. There was so much left to learn, so many adventures to be had, and this man was going to end it all as he took the quickest route to power.

"Good bye, Harry Potter, you and that Muggle filth of a cousin have given me more skills than any other. Know that in death, you have—" **CRASH!**

It was about part way through the mage's monologue that luck, yet again showed how fickle of a mistress she could be. Harry and Dudley had no doubt that the rant Redsun had been building up had been a good one, filled with a bunch of ego-stroking self-praise. However, the car impacting with his chest as it was swung at him like a club quickly put a damper in his plans.

"I don't quite like the tone of such things," Song Si growled as he hefted the car onto his shoulder, glaring at the mage who had dared attacked _his_ disciple.

"You! Who the hell are you?" Redsun growled as he picked himself up from the newest hole he found himself in.

"He, like myself, is a concerned Master looking for his lost disciple. And neither of us is pleased by all this talk of _killing_ our students," another voice spoke with barely suppressed malice.

"Chang," Redsun whispered as Li floated out of the sky.

"You have attacked and tried to kill our students," Li growled as he unleashed the full force of his menace.

"You will pay for such actions!" Song growled in agreement as he too let his emotions be known.

Harry and Dudley could only shiver in fear as the full force of their masters' combined auras of Killer Intent bore down on the poor fool.

'Wa-Wait! Mercy, please," Redsun begged as the masters advanced.

"You dare ask us for mercy?" Li growled as he gazed at the mage.

"Please, I only wanted to become stronger," Redsun begged.

"Then you should have done as everyone else does and worked for it. Instead, you attack and kidnap our students! _You have no right to mercy_!" Song growled.

"Please, Merlin, I beg you!" the mage cried.

"No."

333

"You let him live," Harry stated blandly as Li carried him back to the abandoned shelter he had found in the park oh-so-long ago. Absently, he noted that Song and Dudley were trailing behind them. The battle had ended rather quickly when Li and Song had entered the fray. Redsun may have been powerful, but he was no Master, and this was true of all his subordinates. As soon as Redsun had been defeated, the Artificial Adepts had fled. The mage in question had been left on the ground, broken and bleeding, but alive.

"It is not in my nature to take life needlessly. Nor is it in Song's." Li replied.

"I know. I just…I've never seen you that angry before." Harry replied.

"No, I don't think I've ever been quite that mad at someone before. And, to be honest, a part of me did want to kill that man." Li admitted.

"Then why didn't you?"

"There was no need. This is no time of war, where life can be preserved by taking yet more lives. He was no soulless abomination. He was merely a power-mad Mage. And as much as I dislike the current ministry system, they more often than not do not take kindly to such individuals." Li replied.

"Sides, it's not our way to take life that carelessly." Song offered from behind them.

"Song is correct. We are practitioners of Katsujin Ken, not Satsujin Ken. Life is precious, something that Mage did not understand. Life should never be taken unless there remain no other options. And even then it is not something that can be done so lightly." Li continued.

"Hey, stop getting so wordy, Li. These two are too concussed to get that deep into it," Song shouted as they stepped into the shelter.

"You might just be right. Can I assume you plan on lodging here tonight, Song?" Li asked he moved to place Harry on one of the beds. He and Harry had long ago renovated and replaced many things in the old bomb shelter. Beds replaced cots, though a few still remained. The shelves had been stocked with fresh food, a kitchen area had been installed, and the bottom pit had been turned into the training area. Song of course whistled at the set up.

"Damn, so this is where you've been living. Nice."

"Thanks," Harry muttered tiredly.

"You two rest up, we need to go discuss some things." Li said as he placed Harry on his bed.

"Yeah, real important shit needs discussing," Song replied as he put Dudley down on Li's bed, before turning and following his fellow master out of the shelter turned home.

"Hey, Harry," Dudley muttered loudly enough for Harry to hear.

"Yeah, Dud?"

"I still say it was my victory."


	7. Dance in the Moonlight

Harry Potter and the Oriental Philosophy

Based on the concept by Tellemicus Sundance

Chapter Seven: Dance in the Moonlight

"_Plans? Heh, plans are for people who can't think on their feet. I'll make it up as I go, it's worked so far." _– The questionable wisdom of Song Si.

**X-Residence of Nymphadora Tonks, London, September 20th, 3:13 p.m.**

"Nothing ever goes the way it should, does it?" Tonks questioned idly as she watched yet another showing of the event that had happened a little over a week ago.

The video in question was actually rather hard to follow, something she hadn't expected. There were so many fighters, and most of the time they were moving so very quickly that they were mere blurs before the cameras. Only in the brief instances where everyone stopped moving did she get a clear look at any of them. But it was the three fastest moving fighters who had the most interest from the camera, as they were obviously the most skilled. It was also these three that had captured her attention.

The first was a shirtless and burly teenager with soot covered blond hair. She wasn't aware of the fighter's name, not his real name anyway, but she recognized him from the description and the pensive memories that they had gathered from Platform 9 3/4 the Berserker. The second fighter she however did recognize quite well. Redsun stood in tattered robes in the middle of the street, his face contorted in rage as he stood between the two teenagers.

Redsun. The name had given every Auror in the DMLE a little fear in hearing it. You-Know-Who had been bad and many of the Auror rookies feared that Redsun would rise to equal heights in his mad quest for power. Yet not a single week into the hunt for the rogue and it had already ended with Redsun being captured. Sometimes the Department caught breaks like that. But in this case it was the source of their luck that had gotten everyone into a state of panic.

The capture of Redsun was a _very _mixed blessing. On one hand, he had been captured, rather easily too since he was left wrapped up in a lamppost, of all things. Literally, someone had ripped a lamppost out of the street and twisted it around the crazed Unspeakable and simply left him lying there. On the other hand, he'd only been captured after a very large battle in the middle of London that had been broadcast all across Britain. That was the part that got everyone in the ministry really twitchy.

Far too many people had seen the battle for a mass Obliviation to even be considered effective. It just couldn't be done. They didn't have nearly enough people to even start trying to Obliviate every single person in London, let alone the rest of Britain. And that was what would have to be done to salvage the mess. The fight had been too fantastic. So far away from anything a Muggle could do that the fighters just had to be wizards. Thus the greatest breach in the Stature of Secrecy, _ever_, had occurred. And the ministry couldn't do a bloody thing about it.

Yet even that fact was seemingly far away from what always caught her attention whenever she watched this video. The third fighter always captured her thoughts and focus without fail. He was a teen like the first figure, not quite as tall as the blond, but still taller than most boys his age. He had piercing emerald green eyes and wild raven colored hair. Yet one of the things she never failed to notice was the scar above his right brow. It was a faded scar and the fighter was not that close to the camera, so not many would have noticed it. But there was a scar there. A scar that looked very much like a lightning bolt.

She could still remember showing the video to people such as Cedric. But it was when she had shown it to Dumbledore and by extension her parents that her thoughts truly began to plague her.

_(Flashback. September 10th, 3;30 p.m.)_

_She had slept through the initial broadcast, but that didn't stop her from recording it when they aired the footage for what had to have been the twelfth time that day. At first she hadn't been sure what to make of it, all the shapes blurring through motion, in fact she wasn't entirely sure what she was seeing until those three figures had stopped for the first time and she had gotten her clear look at them._

_Needless to say she was rather freaked out when she saw Redsun battling teenagers in the middle of London. But that was quickly forgotten when she examined the other two figures, recognizing the Hermit and Berserker. Though it was true they looked far less ferocious then the pensive memories made them out to be, she could still recognize them. But what _reall_y captivated her attention was the brief look she had gotten of Hermit's forehead. She almost missed it, if not for a habit she had of looking to a person's forehead if the bore a resemblance to her savior oh so long ago._

_Tonks had nearly screamed when she saw what looked like a faded blot of lightning on his head. And then they were off again, moving so fast she couldn't even make them out. Meanwhile the only thing she could make out about the broadcast was the voice of the man reporting the battle._

"_As you can see they are simply moving too fast for the camera to pick up, please forgive us for the poor quality, even as we speak there are experts working to capture these frames and slow the footage so that we may see the actual footage in such a manner that we can all se what really happened. Hell I was there and I barely even knew what was going on," The reporter said the last part quietly but in the end it was still loud enough for the microphone to pick up._

"_Wait, how can you not know what was going on, you supposedly filmed this as it happened?" A skeptical sounding voice questioned._

"_Danny, supposedly nothing, this stuff happened. If the craters outside the building don't convince you, I don't know what will," The man spoke again._

"_Oh come on Eric, how the hell am I supposed to believe that this footage is what actually happened. I mean come on you don't even have audio? Well except for the explosions, I'll give you that. But look at it. I mean teenage super-martial artists? That sounds like the plot of one of my daughter's Saturday morning cartoons," The man argued back._

"_One, you expect me to get close enough to pick up whatever they said when that guy is throwing **lightning **out of his **hands?** I mean come on, I'm crazy enough to stick around for this, but not suicidal," The man pointed at the footage just as Redsun hurled a bolt of power at one of the teens._

_Tonks didn't pay much more attention after that. She was too entranced by the small snippets of what she could make out. She saw that most of the fighters were teenagers. Not even old enough to be out of Hogwarts, and yet they fought on levels she could hardly imagine. But that didn't even compare to the final moments of the footage. _

_For after all was said and done, very little could compare to the shock of Li Chang appearing on a television broadcast. She was also shocked to see that he was not alone, another man stood beside him. And from what she saw him do, he was as equally powerful as Chang. Together the two of them had _destroyed _anyone who had fought for Redsun. The others had been free to go. She wasn't quite sure why that was, but at that point she didn't care. By then she was already throwing the powder into the fireplace and appearing in Albus Dumbledore's office._

"_Who the- Nymphadora? What is it my dear?" She didn't comment on the headmaster's use of her name, she was much too frantic to even care about such things._

"_Head master, you have to see this! Urgent matters!" She fired off as she grabbed him by the robes, pulling him towards the fireplace._

"_My dear what are you talking about?" The wizen professor asked, confusion evident._

"_Cedric was right! He's alive, and this. This proves it!" She said with what could be considered Patronus levels of relief and hope. Dumbledore could only blink in confusion before something licked in his brain._

"_Harry Potter? You found him?" Dumbledore asked, hope filling him as well at the profound news._

"_Yes I'm sure of it. The kid in the film just has to be him!" She replied as she replied, confidence filled her every word._

"_Film, what film?" He asked, confusion leaking back in._

"_The one all over the teli! The was this huge fight and he was dukeing it out with Redsun… and then Chang showed up… to save him." Suddenly the other implications of the film started to weigh on her mind. And while she was overwhelmed with joy at seeing him, alive, the orders from her boss came to the fore with brute force. Ripping apart her fragile hope._

"_You are sure that it was Potter?" Dumbledore asked carefully._

"_Yeah, I'm positive! It had to be him," She added weakly._

"_I don't doubt you, but how about you show me this film, with several people who actually knew the Potters. From what I recall everyone spoke of how young Harry was the spitting image of his father. If it truly is him, we shall know," Dumbledore suggested._

"_Ye-yeah. You're right. Come on, I'm sure my parents can confirm it," She said with as much vigor as she could muster. But even so, what she might have to do if it truly was him… well it didn't help her state of mind any._

"_Then let us be off then." The old man smiled as he led the way to the fire._

She, her parents, and the wizen schoolmaster had watched the film. Like her they had spotted the number of things that quite frankly, scared the shit out of them. But it was in the moments where the Hermit was still, and they could clearly look at him that caused things to become confusing. Both her parents and Dumbledore had agreed. The young man looked remarkably like James, and he did indeed have eyes on par with Lily's. However there were many points of contention.

It was a known fact that fro the past fifteen generations, that the Potters had poor eyesight, requiring glasses to function. Yet the teen wore no such objects, and seemed perfectly fine operating without them, better even. There was also the matter of musculature, the teen in the footage, had very well developed muscles. Something many wizards and witches lacked. This of course led to him being slightly different in appearance then their memories of what James Potter looked like. And finally there was Dumbledore's own addition to the list of reasons why that boy probably wasn't Harry Potter.

The scar had faded.

According to the Headmaster, a scar like the one Harry Potter had sustained, would never fade. He would bear it in all its glory, as if he'd only received it yesterday, for all of his life. The fact that the scar the teen in the video bore, had faded, meant that it couldn't be Harry Potter. Thus the headmaster had hung his head in sadness, as the hope given to him was proven false.

It was in the moments after that, that the Headmaster grew concerned. He saw it as well as anyone else did. The actions of every fighter in the melee were too fantastic, too powerful. He recalled, as well as she did the words of her cousin. Adepts. Cold-blooded wizards and witches with a different approach to magic.

This footage confirmed it, they were in London

Yet despite all the evidence stacked against her. Tonks could not be dissuaded in the least. Somehow she knew that the teen in the video was the Magical World's lost hero. Harry James Potter was alive. He was alive and he was the Hermit.

It was that second thing that always depressed her.

Many people didn't know this, but Tonks' drive to become an Auror had started on the day Harry Potter had been taken by Chang. She had felt responsible that the young boy who had come to her rescue had been taken by a monster, and likely killed. When she had discovered that it was the Boy-Who-Lived that had been taken, that guilt had been magnified. She had thought she had come to terms with the guilt that she couldn't stop Chang all those years ago.

But when Cedric came back from a confrontation with Chang she realized that the guilt was still there. She was angry that Cedric had attacked Chang so recklessly. Though truth was she was angrier with herself for not being with him in the fight; to aid him, to keep him from getting hurt. Logically**,** she knew she couldn't have been much help, but she still wished it all the same. And then Cedric had sparked the hope in her that Harry Potter might still be alive.

Countless thoughts had drifted through her head at the information. Of rescuing the boy, of bringing him back to a hero's welcome. But most of all Tonks wanted to thank him for saving her all those years ago. Now however things had gotten complicated. Potter was Chang's apprentice, whether by choice or by force. If it was by force, then they had a chance to pull him back into the light.

But if it was by choice, if he had voluntarily sold his soul, then she very well might have to kill her savior.

333

**X- Hogwarts, Northern Scotland, 3:32 p.m.**

Draco was paradoxically tired and yet invigorated.

It was a strange state that he was growing more and more used to as he continued exercising the teachings he had found. Steadily trying to grow closer and closer to the level Hermit and Berserker were at. It had been a trying week and a half since Dobby had shown him the room and started him down the road to power. And the Malfoy heir had pushed himself further than anything he had thought possible; exhausting himself and resigning himself to limping back to the common room. Yet he had never felt better about himself, it was odd. Feeling tired and exhilarated, but it was something he was getting to like.

As the bell signaling the end of class rang, the young pureblood once more found his thoughts drifting back to the books he had found in the room. The first three hadn't been anything he would have looked at before, but considering what had happened at the station he had to admit they _might _come in handy later. It was the final book that was truly the saving grace of the night. A book that detailed a path to power that most would have scoffed at, Draco included. But after witnessing the sheer power of Berserker and the inhuman speed of Hermit, the young Malfoy would admit that such things were not only possible, but also probably far more common than he'd ever realized.

It was with this understanding that Draco had set about following the instructions within the tome. However, he had hit a small problem: he only had so much time in the day. Draco doubted that the two beings he had marked as his goal would sit idly by and wait for him to reach their level, partially because they didn't know he existed. Thus he needed every moment he could get to practice and train. Of course this had led to a rather noticeable trend that had attracted the attention of several individuals.

"Draco, a word."

Such as the resident potion's master and Draco's Head of House.

"Yes, Prof. Snape?" Draco asked, halting his departure from the dungeon level classroom and turning towards the man.

"It has come to my attention that you have begun to miss certain classes with alarming regularity. I would like to know the reasons for this**,"** the potions master stated.

"That is a private matter, sir," Draco replied calmly.

"It is not a private matter, as your increasing absences are costing our House points. Thus it becomes a matter I must address. Now, would you kindly tell me what has drawn your attention so fully you feel the need to skip classes**?"** the Head of Slytherin ordered

"What does it matter? Those classes are useless anyways." Draco deflected.

"While I am inclined to agree with you on such matters, skipping Herbology, one of the classes you have had since the start of your education is bound to attract attention. And as that class ties into mine, it is most assuredly _not _useless." Snape reprimanded.

"But it's not going to help in the long run," Draco argued petulantly.

"What long run, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked with a raised brow. Draco had to suppress the desire to curse. Such a direct question demanded an answer, and the Head of Slytherin was an expert at detecting blatant lies. Thus the situation called for half-truths.

"It has no combat application," Draco said, carefully picking his words.

"And why would combat application matter to this 'long run'?" Snape asked curiosity now piqued.

"Sir, have you not seen how my classmates are acting? How the attack at 9 3/4 has affected us? There is not a single student who isn't trying to master some form of dueling. Some are even trying to invent their own spells. There isn't a single person in this school who isn't concerned about combat application." Draco argued.

"I did not ask what everyone else was doing, Draco. I asked what you had been doing, why you seek magic with combat potential. Though, I may have a guess already." Snape stated calmly, diffusing Draco's attempt to change the topic.

"And what would that be, sir?" Draco asked calmly.

"You were one of the many students injured in that brawl, were you not? And the state of your…injuries were greater than most."

"I was used as a club, sir, and then as shield for a barrage of spells," Draco seethed.

"Yes, I myself would seek more strength after such an event. But you must realize, Draco, that training for that goal is no excuse to miss classes. What you do in your own time is your business, but what you do during class time is the business of the faculty. Are we clear, Draco?" Snape replied calmly.

Draco was silent after that; his professor wasn't seeking to dissuade him from his path, which was good. However he was being told to spend less time training, which was not something he wished to do. Every second he didn't spend practicing was putting more and more distance to cover in order to catch up with the two monsters from the platform. And he was still just beginning his journey, which according to the tome was doubtlessly the hardest part.

"We are, sir." Draco stated tersely, as he began to leave.

"Then I can inform Prof. Sprout that you will cease skipping her class?" Snape asked, halting him.

Draco did not reply, merely pausing before resuming his departure. It was an answer that spoke volumes to Snape. Draco would continue missing classes. And the regularity would probably increase as well. It was a foolish course of action, and would likely have heavy repercussions. But in the end it was all Draco could do. He would not quit; the power he had found was too exhilarating.

Ever since he had been born, his father had taught him to strive towards power, but he had never thought that the path he would take was one such as this. It was insane really, the knowledge within the book. It went against everything he had been taught as a wizard. Yet practicing the techniques, honing his body to be able to handle said techniques, and finding the best way to utilize what the book taught him and what he already knew. Doing all of this, it felt as if some part of him he hadn't even known was missing had reappeared, and it was all thanks to the book, and the teachings therein.

He had no idea who the wizard had been, or what he had been thinking when he had come up with the mad idea. But after finally figuring out how to work it, Draco knew without a shadow of a doubt: James Shiba was a mad genius.

333

**X- an abandoned bomb shelter, London, 5:22 p.m.**

It is a known fact among those who have taken The Art to the extreme levels, in essence those who have become Adepts: that injuries begin to heal faster once one has gained access to their own inner energies. This is of course also present in Mages, yet since those in Europe are rarely as in touch with their power as an Adept is, the effect is diminished. But amongst Adepts, whose very life is about perfecting their connection to their own power, the effect is very noticeable. Thus injuries that could lay a normal person out for months at a time can be healed in a week. Teeth never cease to regrow. And often the only signs of injuries that should have crippled or even killed lesser men are mere faded scars.

This strange event also presents itself in many other ways besides just a heightened healing factor. Naturally degenerate imperfection in DNA, such as whatever strands determine if a person has receding hairlines, loss of hearing, or requires glasses, disappear or are repaired. The natural senses are sharper, and longer lasting than any other person. And the higher the energy within an Adept, the quicker and stronger the effect presents itself.

"Is he gone yet? I can't take one more second of inactivity!" Dudley shouted.

"Don't worry, he's gone. You two can finally get some practice in." Song replied as he eyed the two irate teenagers.

"Finally!" Harry shouted with joy as he and Dudley moved to the training sector.

Considering how fast an Adept heals, it should come as no surprise that Harry and Dudley had finished healing from their injuries within a little under a week. However in the aftermath of the battle, another rather common event among Adepts occurred. It should be noted that many a Master grow attached to their Disciple. The bond shared between them often becomes familial more times than not. And as any true father who has been put in similar situations can tell you, they tend to grow very concerned when their children are injured. Thus Harry and Dudley (who couldn't escape with his own master quickly enough) came to be under the tender care of a very concerned Li Chang.

At first the added concern for their well-being had been heartwarming. Even Dudley couldn't deny it felt nice. However after the healing had ended and the Master Martial Artist persisted in his henpecking ways, it began to grow tiresome. Thankfully for both teens Li was not in that evening, instead he had gone out on what Song had called 'important business'. Usually this was code for some impending battle with a rival, a battle that could (Considering Li's level of power) potentially destroy mountains. But as Song had stayed inside the teens had no idea what Li had left to do.

However with Li gone for an evening, it left the teens free to do a bit of training in their own respective Arts (Sparring). Something Li had asked they hold off on until later. **Song,** the responsible adult Li had left to ensure the teens took it easy, was not overseeing the sparring match as intently as he should have been. Instead he found his attention drawn to the bomb shelter that Harry and Li had adapted into a home.

When Harry had found it, it had looked like a place squatters and junkies would frequent to hide from the cold and/or the law. Now however it could pass for a decent apartment in a middle-income family. The first section had been turned into a kitchen like area, filled to the brim with food and spices from the Asian market, they'd even managed to set up a little stove and connect it to the city power grid (illegally of course). Another area had been converted into the resting area, complete with a grand total of seven futons (Li had insisted upon that number). The area even had a couch and a few chairs, along with a large table. And finally there was the training area. The lowest section had been completely renovated and turned into a room that looked to belong in one of the high-rise self-defense dojo's or a gym. Padded floors, mirrors, punching bags, the entire works. But even more impressive were the many runes and sutras written into the area. And while laying down such things were not among Songs strong points, he knew enough about them to identify some features. He could tell that the training area was both tougher than it naturally ought to be, as well as self-repairing, as it couldn't be _too_ tough. Aside from those, though, he couldn't make heads or tails of some of the things there.

As Song was busy being distracted by the interior of the Bomb Shelter, the sparring match between the two teens was slowly escalating as such matches always seemed to. Yet despite this, Song was not the only person deep in thought.

Harry charged towards his cousin, throwing a quick combo, however it was one Dudley had seen before. Thus he was quite able to counter the first blow, before moving around the follow up kick. Kicking Harry in the small of his back, Dudley could not help but notice the distracted aura surrounding his cousin. Deciding that enough was enough, Dudley charged forward. With the monstrous strength and ferocity he was known for the Berserker attacked. Catching the downed Hermit with a kick to the side, Harry was sent flying.

"The hell's the matter with you, Harry? This shouldn't be anywhere near as easy as your making it!" Dudley roared as Harry recovered midair.

"Well sorry for letting my mind wander, but I can't seemed to help it." Harry replied as he charged forward, this time using an as of yet unknown combo. Breaking through his cousin's guard with lightning speed, Harry struck his cousin in the sternum, before moving to elbow him in the chin.

"Whatever! So what has got the great and powerful Hermit's panties in such a twist?" Dudley growled, intentionally goading his cousin. Unfortunately for him, it worked a little too well. With a soft animalistic sound that had no right to come from a human throat, Harry moved forward, his fists glowing with emerald fire. Another move Dudley had been on the receiving end a few too many times before, the **Burst Knuckle.**

Acting quickly Dudley moved to counter it the only way he could see how. He sent his fist, charged up with a **Tiger's Fang**, directly on a collision course with his cousin's own fist. Just as they had so many years ago, the two fists met in a tumultuous clash. Only this time nothing broke, though the resulting explosion of the two attacks was enough to draw Song's attention back to the fight.

"Oiy, you two are supposed to be takin' it easy," Song stated sternly.

"We are!" They replied as one.

"Yeah right. Takin' it easy would not have caused an explosion like that." Song argued, only to receive an incredulous glare from Harry.

"This from the man who once destroyed a city bus while '_taking it easy' _on some poor shmuck who thought he'd reached Master level**?**" Harry argued back.

"Yeah, well… do as I say, not as I do." Song replied petulantly. He really had no other good advice to give. He _had_ done that before… more than once actually.

"As fun as it is to see the old man taken down a few pegs, what the hell is up with you Harry? You weren't as nearly into that as you usually are," Dudley asked with a smirk on his face.

"I told you my mind keeps wandering." Harry replied tersely.

"Wandering to what?" Dudley asked calmly.

"Redsun."

"What? Why the hell are you thinkin' about that ass-hat?" Dudley growled.

"I'm not sure we've seen the last of him." Harry replied calmly.

"Well what makes ya' say that. I mean after that beatin' that the Masters dished out, why the hell would'cha think he might come back?" Dudley asked.

"Because I don't really trust the Mages here," Harry answered darkly. Dudley could only start at the answer. It was one that he couldn't really argue against either. He didn't trust the Mages much in general, but he could at least trust the ones he'd met back in Asia to keep their prisoners locked away forever. England however, well he and Harry had listened in on some of the talks between the Masters. Both of them knew of how many of the families had bought their way out of jail. The fact that they had left those same Mages to clean up the remnants of Redsun's operation left a bad taste in Dudley's mouth.

"Fuck!" Dudley cursed as he realized what his cousin might be implying.

"Exactly, I want to trust in Li's wisdom, but I grew up hearing how corrupt this place was, from just about everyone. We can't be sure that Redsun's really locked away." Harry nodded in agreement.

"Great, now you've gone an' gotten me worked up. So what do we do?" Dudley asked, more to himself than anything else.

"I just don't know." Harry gritted out.

"Heh, wussies!" Song called out suddenly, drawing both teens attention. "Look at the both of ya, sittin' here cowerin' about what might be. Did Li and I really train you two? Get real, if you're really that worked up about that Mage, then man up and take matters into your own hands." Song lectured.

"And how would we go about doing that, Song?" Harry asked, an idea taking root in the back of his head.

"Well, if it was me, then I'd go to wherever it is that they keep Mage prisoners before throwin' them in jail. And then I'd stack evidence in favor of the guilty verdict, you know, tossin' out or destroyin' evidence that puts 'em in the positive light, ensurin' that whatever bribes they gave disappear. Stuff like that." Song replied honestly, unaware of the new light he was casting himself in to both his own student and his rival's student.

"So we should just check out where they're keepin' him huh? Say, Harry, do you know where they keep Mages?" Dudley asked curiously.

"Sorta, I know that most prisoners are held in the ministry to await trial, since they tried that with Li once. But I don't know where the Ministry actually is." Harry replied honestly as he focused his thoughts to the few conversations he'd had with his master about Li's past with the ministry. All he could recall was the facts of it.

Li had been called in for questioning about matters regarding his actions during the war. But as he sat down in what he'd been told was a waiting room, he'd felt the wards fall into place, attempting to trap him. It wasn't until a group of Aurors had entered the room, and begun asking pointed questions about his allegiance that he'd realized what was happening. After that he'd decided that he would rather not be thrown in jail sans trial, and simply walked out. Though many had tried to stop him. But nowhere in that story did he mention where the entrance or exits to the ministry were. Thus Harry had no idea as to how to get there.

"Well, do you know anyone who might have more info than that?" Song asked, trying to be helpful. Oddly enough his question steered Harry's brain towards the people he'd met that might have anything to do with the Mages. And aside from Li, there was someone he knew that probably had useful knowledge on the workings of the British mages.

"Yeah, I just might have somebody in mind." Harry said with a grin as he moved from the training area. He slipped out of the dirty gi, and into more street-worthy clothing. In this case the outfit consisted of blue jeans, converse high-tops, a plain white t-shirt and a dark-red leather jacket. Well it wasn't actually leather, more like scales, specifically dragon scales. If he was heading into Mage territory, he wasn't taking any risks, and anything made from dragon scales increased his odds of coming out unscathed. Additionally he had tied a simple black headband around his head in an attempt to keep as much of his wild hair away from his eyes as he could.

"Mind telling me who this person is?" Dudley asked as he too dressed for the night. His outfit consisting of a pair of khaki colored cargo pants, a belt with a silver tiger's head belt buckle securing them to his waste. His shoes were a simple pair of white sneakers. He too wore a simple white T-shirt underneath a jacket. Though his jacket was not the high-end quality of Harry's, it was a black piece with intervals of dark orange, resembling a tiger almost, if only in a reverse color pattern. Harry wasn't quite sure what the jacket was made from, and to be honest neither was Dudley. It had been a gift from Song, and whenever they had asked the master, he had simply told them. 'You wouldn't believe me if I told you.' It resembled leather a great deal, yet to the touch you would swear that it was fur. Either way it was one of Dudley's favorite jackets and he was glad he hadn't been wearing it when Redsun had captured them. Harry was likewise glad that he hadn't been wearing his own jacket, after all Chinese Fireball scale jackets were fairly expensive in the Mages' world.

"Aw come on Dud, you should remember her. After all she did kick your ass, or rather, something fairly close to your ass." Harry replied with a smirk. Dudley could only wince as he recalled the pain he had been dealt.

"Right, her. What was her name again, and why would she know 'bout mages?" Dudley asked, he still hadn't found out how she had beaten him so easily. Sure it had been due to him letting her get a free hit in, but that shouldn't have mattered much if not for the fact that she had Adept level strength. The fact that she had such strength while only possessing as much Ki as a normal athlete was what really made him wonder about her.

"Simple, Ashley Felix is a lycanthrope." Harry replied, answering both questions in one go as he began walking out of his home into the night, Dudley right beside him.

Song watched the pair leave, feeling proud of himself for ensuring their peace of mind. After all assurances from other people, were nigh on useless in the real world. Better to find out about the truth of the matter yourself. Doing so always either laid whatever fear you had to rest, or confirmed it. Either way you could look towards the future and prepare for whatever came next.

Though after the two had been gone for ten minutes, Song remembered something Li had specifically told him to do. As well as what was likely going to happen to him if he disobeyed.

"Shit, I was supposed to keep those two down here, wasn't I?" Song cursed, he just hoped his stomach would forgive him. After all, being forced to stomach a wheelbarrow full of leeks1 was not something he looked forward to.

333

Ashley Felix was feeling good. Better than she had felt in a long while. And why shouldn't she be? She was one of the few teens in the city that could state for a fact that she had beaten the Berserker. Added to that the fact that not long after that, she had gone toe-to-toe with the Hermit, and there were few people who could make similar claims. Though, previously, this victory was soured by the fact that it was her fights with both teens that had weakened them enough for the mad wizard Redsun to capture them. However the recently televised fight had proven that not only were they still alive, but that they were more than likely perfectly fine now. Thus she could now freely revel in her victories.

Already other fighters in the citywide tournament that had been dubbed the Convergence were taking notice of her. Before, she had just been another fighter, skilled and strong yes, but just another nameless face among many, many others. Now however she was starting to become one of the big names, hell some of the other fighters had even given her a moniker of her own.

The Valkyrie.

She liked it. It made her feel like an equal to any of the other big names in the Convergence. Such was her elation that not even the thoughts of what the Ministry might do to her if they caught her could bring her down. And the sad fact was, the Ministry of Magic was likely to rear their ugly little heads now that too much attention had been drawn to the fighting. She specifically would be in more trouble than the others.

As a lycanthrope, specifically a were-lion, living in Europe was not easy. There were tons of arbitrary laws regarding her, and those similar to her. Such as the law that made Ashley's very existence illegal. The law in question was the one about it being illegal for those _infected_ by lycanthropy of any kind to breed. Thus as she was born with her condition, she could be arrested just for being alive. But laws of that nature seemed distant and forgettable when she considered just how different her life had been since _that night_.

Shaking her head briefly, Ashley tried to clear her head of such thoughts. It didn't do to dwell too deeply on such things. Doing so never failed to raise her hackles, and that always led to small lapses in control. Nothing major mind you, it would likely be something small. Such as her senses sharpening enough that she could catch the scent on the wind. In fact she caught a particular scent that threw all thoughts of calming herself out the window. It was the scent of the man that was responsible for _that night_. The man she would kill.

But there was another scent as well, a scent that stilled the rage within Ashley and made her realize how messy things could get. Especially if tonight was the night of the full moon. She couldn't quite be sure if it was, since she had long ago stopped keeping track of the moon's cycle. After all, the only person in charge of her was her.

Moving quickly, Ashley headed towards the human scent hoping that she made it to whoever they were before he could. Rounding a corner, Ashley couldn't help but stop and stare at the human that could get caught in the crossfire. She was young, that was the first thing that Ashley could make out about her. Six years old, maybe seven. Dressed in a large pink coat that hid most of her frame, but Ashley could still make out the white pants at the hem of the coat. Her hair was a shoulder length blond and secured back out of her face by a cutesy kitty hairpin. Her eyes were blue, and currently the kitten on display in the local pet store enraptured them, blinding the child to everything around her. A look of pure childish joy locked upon her face as she watched the animals.

After Ashley had taken in all of this, she noted the most important thing, no adults nearby. Whoever this girl was, she was here by herself, and that combined with her age made her the ideal target for the predator stalking through the area. Moving with purpose, Ashley called to the little girl.

"Hey kid, what are you doing here, where are your parents?" Ashley demanded, doing her best to conceal her fear. Fear and anxiety would only make things worse if they leaked over to the little girl.

"Eep!" The child squawked, obviously she had been too intent on the animals to notice anything around her. Any other time and Ashley might have thought it was cute. However**,** now was not the time for such things. The were-lion waited anxiously for some kind of reply, but as the little girl looked at her, taking in the black pants, and the purple shirt, along with Ashley's hairstyle. The lycanthrope could smell the unease growing around the girl. And if she could smell it, then _he___probably did as well.

"Well, where are they?" Ashley repeated harshly, hoping that they were merely in a store close by. Though chances were good that the girl had wandered over here on her own from the nearby YMCA. The little girl had the scent of one who had recently cleaned themselves of sweat, which only helped to confirm that particular suspicion.

"Umm, they're…" The tone was one Ashley was familiar with. It was the tone of a child caught doing something they'd been told not to, but had anyway, and the tone of the girl's response was not doing anything for the increasingly worried fighter.

"Look, it doesn't matter at this point. You shouldn't be here, so why don't you go back to wherever it is they are." Ashley ordered calmly, doing her best to reign in the unease welling up inside of her.

"Why should I?" However the response of the girl nearly floored her, she had expected the child to be cowed into doing as she was told, merely by her appearance as a scary stranger. Obviously however the small child had more courage than that.

"Look, can you even imagine how worried they might be about you? Besides it's not safe out right now." Ashley argued back.

"Come now, girl, don't scare the meat sack too much. She might run too far away, and that would ruin all my fun." A new voice spoke, startling the child once more, and making Ashley curse. Turning towards the voice, Ashley could only grow angry as her eyes confirmed what her ears and nose were already telling her.

There, stepping from the shadows of an alleyway was a tall, wild looking man. His hair was a cool steel grey, and his pale blue eyes glittered maliciously in the light of the setting sun. His clothes were ratty and tattered, especially his pants. His jacket was of dark brown fur, and smelled of blood. He smiled then, revealing unnaturally sharp teeth. This man was Fenrir Greyback.

"Kid, start running," Ashley whispered as she stepped in front of the child, placing herself between the innocent and the monster.

"Yes, do. The hunt is always so much more fun when they're running." Greyback smiled darkly as he eyed the small child.

"You won't touch her, dog!" Ashley growled as she stepped towards the wolf, her eyes already shifting to a predatory yellow.

"Back off, girl, you're out of your league here. Sides, soon as the sunsets you'll be hunting her too. That is, if you live long enough." the wolf growled.

"You think I'm anything like you, just another mindless animal obsessed with blood and the hunt? Well, you've got another thing coming, you damn mutt!" Ashley growled as she charged forward, smirking at the look of surprise gracing the older lycanthrope's face. And as she pounced on the wolf, her ears could make out the sounds of little running feet.

'_Good, at least she has more sense than I did at that age, she shouldn't have to see someone die.' _Ashley thought absently as her fist connected with Fenrir's sternum.

If the wolf hadn't been expecting Ashley to attack so suddenly with her fists of all things, he obviously hadn't been expecting the sheer power packed into the blow. The Valkyrie smirked as he was sent flying by the blow. However as the older figure returned to his feet, Ashley had to steel herself from all emotions. Knowing that she would need to call upon everything she had to win this battle.

"Now what was that?" Greyback questioned as he climbed to his feet, eying the younger lycanthrope. Ashley made no reply as she moved forward, swinging her fist at him once more, however this time her enemy appeared ready for such attacks. Dodging her blows the wolf moved to counter her, yet even if he appeared ready to fight, Ashley could spot several things that so far put the fight in her favor.

Fenrir was little more than an animal that walked in human skin. And while he may be closer to his own inner beast than most other Lycanthropes, more often than not it was the animal in control. And while that may have lent itself to a truly dangerous foe under the light of the full moon, in his human skin he had no idea how to fight other than 'hit it with your fist'. His stance was sloppy and filled with easily exploitable openings. Ashley couldn't help but smirk at him, compared to the people she had been challenging, Greyback was no better than a newly awakened Adept, who only knew enough to put power into a blow. So long as she beat him before the sun finished setting, she could win.

The older Lycanthrope charged her, throwing a sloppy hook that anyone could see coming. Ashley banked to the side before unleashing a powerful kick to his chest. Just as she had expected the blow connected and threw the feral wolf back several feet. Unlike the last time she had hit him however, she didn't wait for him to get up. Pursuing her downed foe Ashley sent a quick jab at his face, breaking the dazed werewolf's nose. Greyback attempted to retaliate, but his clumsy strike was easily deflected to the side, opening him up for a quick counter to the throat.

The blow should have ended the fight then and there. It should have debilitated him, if not outright killed him, yet the older man seemed to have recovered from the blows given to him earlier, dodging under the blow and rolling away from her, stopping on all fours and looking at her with feral rage.

Ashley found her eyes switching between her foe and the increasingly descending sun, cursing herself for taking so much time. For while it was true that most werewolves grew sickly as the beast within grew stronger, for Greyback it was the opposite. In truth for him, the animal growing stronger only made him more powerful, thus with the descent of the sun he would slowly but surely grow more resilient and powerful.

His form would still be sloppy and his blows telegraphed, but he would steadily become stronger, as well as faster. And at the speeds he could eventually reach, it didn't matter if his blows were telegraphed.

Switching her eyes back to Greyback she could only glare all the more as his form started to grow more animalistic, much as hers did as she increased the level of her abilities. So far fur had begun to grow along his arms as his nails sharpened into animalistic claws. As more changes began to appear on the savage monster, Ashley knew that she would have to mimic said changes herself. And as those changes within her occurred, Greyback smiled his wicked grin.

"So you're like me after all. I was wondering why you weren't sick like all those collared mutts." The wolf smirked.

"I am nothing like you!" Ashley growled.

"You say that, and yet you're transforming like me. Even if you are a mangy cat, you're nowhere near as useless as all those who fool themselves into thinking they're cursed. You've at least accepted your blessing, you let it in." Greyback smiled as he began to circle, Ashley mimicked him, moving with him in a circle, preventing her flank from being exposed to him.

"You're a monster, Greyback, and I refuse to be associated with the likes of you." Ashley growled, pouncing forward.

It was a stupid animalistic mistake.

Greyback used his larger mass, plus the addition of his supernatural strength to push the struggling girl to the ground. As the two of them fought for dominance, eventually the older lycanthrope won out, if for no other reason due to his experience fighting like the animal sleeping within.

"You deny what you yourself are, girly. You, me, every lycanthrope in the whole wide world are monsters. So why pretend to be any different?" the older man whispered in her ear.

"Maybe because she's _not_ a monster," a voice mildly familiar to her spoke from above the two of them.

Breaking her gaze from Greyback's own, Ashley looked towards the voice's origin, and saw two people that paradoxically filled her with dread and hope. The hope was a simple thing to comprehend; the two above her were strong. She had both felt the strength of one of them, and seen what they could do together against a common enemy. The dread came from the thought of what kind of beast could potentially be unleashed if one of them was bitten.

For above her and Greyback stood the Hermit and Berserker, looking down on them both.

"Who the hell are you two?" Fenrir questioned.

"Hehe, us? We're the _real_ monsters, pal," the Berserker replied with a grim smile.

"Really now? You don't smell like much." Fenrir replied with a growl.

"Maybe because we actually bathe," Hermit's voice said directly from her right, startling both her and Greyback.

"How the he- oomph! The wolf grunted as Hermit kicked him in the side, sending him flying upwards, towards the Berserker.

"Bye-bye now!" Berserker shouted with a malicious glee as he too kicked the feral wolf. His blow connected with the wolf's chin, though in his case an actual explosion was kicked up as his foot landed. Ashley herself could only watch in shock as the werewolf went flying through the air, going further and further away. In horror she realized what this could mean for others, and promptly jumped to her feet, glaring at the two teens in the alley with her.

"You idiots! Do you have any idea what you've just done?" she growled in anger, startling the two of them.

"Well, I just kicked the werewolf to Dud, then he punted him somewhere," Hermit said cautiously.

"The Thames," Berserker added.

"Yes, you punted a werewolf away from three capable individuals who could have kept him contained all night. Now he's who knows where, near god knows how many people, on the night of the full moon. Who knows how many people could be hurt, even killed!" She shouted at them.

"Hey, calm down. He's not gonna be waking up from that blow, trust me." Hermit said trying to calm her, it didn't work.

"Trust you! Buddy, you and I have only met once and it was for a fight. And while I might respect both of you for your strength and ability, I don't know you. But now, after you two punted a monster away, and into a populated area. Well, I'm now seriously doubting your intelligence!" She growled.

"Lady, we don't know you either, but trust us, that guy will be out cold till sunrise." Berserker growled back.

"And how do you know that, you ever use a move like that on a werewolf like Greyback before?" Ashley roared.

"As a matter of fact, yes, yes I have. The fucker was out like a light all night. I know cause I stayed there waitin' for the bloody locals to show up and throw the sorry sod into a silver cage. So don't you question my experience!" Berserker replied, startling her.

She could usually spot a lie, due to the scents people gave of when they lied, and even if both teens in front of her had undergone god knows what kind of freaky training that the higher tier Adepts went through. With his emotions this agitated, there was no way he could lie to her. However she still had a bit more to vent on him about.

"Well if that's the case why did you have to send him away, why not just knock him back down here?"

"And leave a transformed werewolf next to the road? Really, Felix, we have enough problems keeping everything secret after the Melee." Hermit replied, referring of course to the epic battle that had taken place between himself, Berserker and the Artificial-Adept known as Redsun. It had risen to such infamy that it had been titled "The London Melee" ever since.

"He wouldn't have been alive long enough for anyone to see." Ashley muttered as the logic trumped her argument. Unfortunately for her though, it appeared that both teens had heard her last statement and were now eying her warily.

"And just what do you mean by that?" Berserker asked quietly.

"That is none of your business." She growled, eyes narrowing.

"But I think it is Felix, you should know by now at least that there is a strict no killing policy among those who participate in The Convergence. You should also know that the Masters ruthlessly enforce this policy. Why would you risk their ire?" Hermit asked seriously. Putting forth yet more logic.

From what Ashley had gathered from some of the Legacy Adepts in the city, a Convergence was a function performed by those who followed what they called Katsujin Ken, those who protected life with their Art. They were prohibited from taking the lives of their foes, save in the direst of circumstances, like a war. Thus during the Convergence, those who fought in the citywide tournament were bound to follow the laws of Katsujin Ken and those who disobeyed were punished by the Masters.

She was not quite sure what this punishment was, but she didn't wish to find out. The Masters scared her, for if the two before her still considered themselves "Disciples," she didn't want to know how dangerous a true Master was. Yet for the matter surrounding Greyback, she would forget her fear of such beings.

"That doesn't matter. You don't know what that monster has done!" She argued.

"Maybe not personally, no we don't know what he's done. Hell I don't even know who that ass-hat was. But I've met plenty of monsters like 'im, and even then we don't have the right to decide who lives and who dies. The moment we start using our Art in such a manner, well those'll be the moments when we really do become monsters. And then we ain't no better than him." Berserker stated in a manner of fact voice.

"You're wrong, even if I killed him, I could never be anything like him. I would never do the things he's done to people!" Ashley roared back, tears forming in her eyes as the memories came.

"And exactly what has he done to people? You have some kind of personal stake in this, don't you?" Hermit asked quietly, noticing the tears falling from her amber eyes.

"How dare you ask me that! What gives you the right to ask me something like that?" She growled at him, turning she tried to escape from the alleyway, away from the two Adepts, but in truth it was to try and escape the memories. Yet as she turned, to leave she found the alley way blocked by The Hermit, his cool gaze boring into her.

"I ask because even though I only met you once before, I enjoyed our fight. Not only that but you have lived up to ideals of an Adept. Proving the impossible to be possible. Even now we stand in the light of the full moon, and yet here you are, human still." Hermit replied as he pointed towards the full moon hanging above their heads.

"Is that it, you think that just because we had one fight that you enjoyed that it gives you some sort of privilege with me?" Ashley asked angrily

"It's not only that Felix, what he hasn't said yet is that you're hurtin' too. And pain like that, well keeping it bottled up ain't gonna help. Trust me I know, I tried bein' mad at him for somthin' once, but in the end I can't really blame him for what happened, it just wasn't his fault. Still didn't help the hurt though, eventually I did something stupid and nearly died." Berserker added

"So what? I am not like you. I'm not dumb enough to almost get myself killed!" She shouted back.

"That ain't what I just saw. You were winnin' that fight for a while there. Then that bastard started to compare you to him, you lost it and he got the upper hand. If you had such a rein on that hurt and anger you've got inside, that wouldn't have happened." Berserker replied.

"That was—that was a stupid mistake, it won't happen again." She muttered.

"Maybe, maybe not. Look, all me and Dud are trying to understand is why you would kill him? There are a ton of risks to even trying, chief among them is becoming the very thing you hated," Hermit asked calmly.

"Yeah, just trust us, will ya? Sure we don't know each other that well, but we can be friends. If ya let us." Berserker said with a small smile.

Ashley took a moment before replying. Despite how angry she was at both of them for interfering, they had made a number of good points. She had lost her cool when facing Greyback, being compared to him had enraged her more than anything she had thought possible, especially when _he _was doing the comparing. And now before her stood two individuals that genuinely wanted to help her. And not the kind of help she had expected either.

When she had come to London after hearing the rumors, it had been for the single purpose of upping her combat abilities. She had already mastered the beast, now she just needed to learn the best way to use it in a fight. A style, so to speak. She had already taken so much time mastering the lion, that she was growing impatient, thus she had thrown herself into the fights. She grew stronger with every passing battle, her opponents 'helping' her reach new heights.

And while it was true that she was on good terms with most of her opponents, she had done her best to keep them at arm's length. Not wanting to grow too close to lose sight of her eventual goal. Yet these two were offering her something she had tried to deny herself for so long. They offered friendship, true and simple. If she accepted then it would mean forever throwing in with them, a friend for life.

They would become part of her pride.

"I—I don't know where to start," She said quietly.

"The beginning is usually a good place," Hermit offered with a smile.

333

When they had set out to find Ashley Felix, they had not expected their attention to be drawn in so completely by her tale. What they had wanted was simple, yet now here they found themselves, before the young were-lion waiting to hear her story. Somehow Harry knew that it wouldn't be simple, or fun. With the kind of hurt exuding from her, the story was bound to have some form of tragedy to it.

"Well, I guess telling you two that I'm an orphan would be the best place to start," Ashley said slowly.

"K, but what's that got to do with this?" Dudley asked bluntly.

"I'm getting there!" she bristled. Harry could only sigh as his cousin's blunt nature, but in truth he himself did wonder about the information's relevance.

"Dud, let her tell the story," Harry said softly, trying to play peacemaker.

"Fine, Harry, I'll shut-up now." Dudley groused, though his words confused Ashley.

"Wait, I thought your name was Kaili?" She asked, before Harry could do anything about his cousin's habit of using his birth name, Dudley spoke and explained things with his own personal flare to them

"Nah, Harry just keeps tellin' people that so the mages don't bother him. After all they think he's some sorta messiah or somthin' like that." He explained.

"Really?" Ashley asked as she eyed Harry.

"Yeah, something like that." Harry nodded.

"Well, can't say I blame you, I don't like them much either. According to the ministry I should never have been born. But that didn't stop my parents." Ashley said with a small, sad smile.

"I'm guessing they were both were-lions, like yourself?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, they loved each other enough to risk the ministry's ire when they brought my brothers and me into the world. I can remember the first few years pretty well. We lived out in the mountains and didn't really bother anyone. And hell we were happy as could be, we didn't even have that much of a problem with our own lycanthropy. Just locked ourselves in the basement on the full moons. It probably would have continued like that until, until…" Here Ashley began to trail off as she remembered something that Harry and Dudley could tell was unpleasant.

"Until?" Dudley coaxed.

"Until Greyback showed up!" She spat with anger, even as the tears began to well up in her eyes. Neither Harry nor Dudley spoke as the tears steadily built up; it was not there place, not yet. "He showed up and everything went to hell." She continued.

"Exactly what happened?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Greyback wanted to make the area his new hiding grounds. But my family had already staked a claim. By lycanthrope law, it was ours, but Greyback wanted it. And since we were lions instead of wolves, he didn't feel the _obligation _to _ask nicely_." She growled. "He just showed up, and then he. And then he just started killing them." She sobbed. The memories braking through as she told them both all the gory details.

She could see it play out before her, the door to their small home explode in crimson flames as Greyback marched through the wreckage. She saw her father and her eldest brother leap forward to engage the savage wolf as her mother grabbed her, carrying her away. She hadn't made it very far before a lance of silver pierced her chest.

She watched as her mother bled out and died on top of her, watched as Greyback laughed as he and her father danced in battle. Her father losing himself to the inner beast he had struggled with for so long. Battling like a pair of animals not used to their skin. Her brother was already dead by that point, a knife through his heart. To her left she saw her other brother huddled in a corner whimpering at all the blood.

Eventually Grey back won the battle, tearing her father's throat out with his teeth after he'd pinned him to the ground. She watched as yet more blood pooled the ground. She bore witness to Grey back killing her final family member as he whimpered in fear. Finally the wicked wolf looked towards her, still underneath her mother's cooling corpse. He'd sniffed the air, and then he'd just turned away.

"At first I didn't know why he didn't kill me too. But I think, maybe, just maybe all the blood in the air confused him. In the end he set the cottage on fire and left. I had to crawl out from under the body before I died of asphyxiation. Then I watched as my home and my family burned." She said solemnly, the tears having come and gone.

"What came next?" Dudley asked as she calmed somewhat,

"I dedicated myself from being nothing like Greyback. He's nothing but a monster in human skin. Most people say that those three nights out of the month is when a lycanthrope becomes a monster. In his case he's just returning to his true form." She growled.

"I take it then that that knowledge that even as a human, the beast was still there, made you seek out ways to ensure that you were the one in control?" Harry asked calmly.

"Yeah. I just…I just didn't want to be like him. So I sought out everything I could find on controlling it. Whether the legend, rumor, or myth came from either world I sought it out. And eventually I found it, my answer to controlling the beast." She whispered.

"The answer, what was it?" Harry asked calmly.

"I can't quite reveal it, vows you know?" She asked as she looked at the two of them. She was heartened when they both nodded in understanding. Some secrets just weren't yours to share.

"Anything you can tell us?" Dudley asked.

"Yeah, it was at a temple, somewhere in Asia. The monks there, well just about all of them were a lycanthrope of one kind or another. They had sought the place out originally to shelter the world from themselves. But eventually they figured out how to master the inner beast, taming it." She replied.

"Yeah, monks'll do stuff like that. Ain't meditation neat**?"** Harry said with a small smile.

"That it is, now then you feelin' better, Ash?" Dudley asked.

"Little bit yeah, but that was some heavy shit just now. Please don't make me do something like that again anytime soon." She said softly as she looked between the two of them.

"Got'cha, but listen we didn't quite come out looking for you for this. Though now I feel sorta bad asking this from you." Harry said with a light smile.

"Well, don't leave me in suspense here, what do you two need me for?" she asked, trying to sound upbeat.

"We need to know where the Ministry of Magic is." Harry replied.

"Okay, how about why first?" She asked, her curiosity piqued by the sudden request. She recalled that Harry was apparently trying to avoid them, so the sudden desire to find the ministry was odd.

"Oh we're just plannin' ta break in an make sure that Redsun ass-hat stays locked up." Dudley answered. Ashley could only blink at the blunt summation of their plan, even as Harry sighed and shook his head.

"Really?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah, really," Harry nodded.

"Well then, count me in," she nodded.

"Huh, you're coming with?" Harry asked as both teens turned to look at her.

"Course I am, after you two come and drag my history from me, you've got to be crazy to think that I wouldn't help you with something like this," she said authoritatively.

"Heh, she's got spirit," Dudley smiled as he nodded in agreement.

"Well then, guess we've got no choice in the matter. So you'll lead us there, I take it?" Harry asked with a smile.

"Yup, so let's go commit a felony," she smiled.

"Let's**,**" Dudley smiled.

As the three took to the rooftops, none of them aware that for the past few minutes a small child had quietly observed them, enrapture by the Art they performed. For even though they were powerful fighters and had senses that surpassed many of those possessed by a mundane, they were still teenagers. And let it be known that every single teenager in existence makes stupid mistakes on average once a week. Adepts, whose very life is filled with chaos and what could be considered insanity, make mistakes far more often.

Thus is it any surprise that these three were off to do something of rather…questionable wisdom?

333

**X-location unplottable**

It had been centuries since he'd passed on, centuries his spirit had waited. Waited for the one who would be worthy of wielding her. And yet, none had come, none who could wield her. All who had come were too arrogant, too filled with greed to be able to even touch her. None of them seemed to know that such an object was beyond them. All had failed, and turned their rage at the failure towards him.

"Why? Why can I not wield it?" they would shout.

He could only sigh at the arrogance that had taken root in his kind. Had they forgotten what he'd tried to lay down for them? The world he and his friends had tried to create? But all of them refused to understand. And so he had wiped the knowledge from them. They would never tell others of this place, they would forget all knowledge related to it, and he would continue to wait.

Yet now, now something new was going on in the world outside of this secret place. He could feel the power rising in the land of the living. Something new had come to the shores of England. And to his surprise it felt… almost familiar. Yet there was a quality to the energies that was different. And with this the shade grew to wonder.

Could the wielder be among them, those who called themselves…Adepts?

1: Song hates leeks.


	8. Mages vs Ninjas Sorta

Harry Potter and the Oriental Philosophy

Based on the concept by Tellemicus Sundance

Chapter Eight: Mages vs. Ninjas (Sorta)

_"Hit it. Whatever it is, just hit it. If that doesn't work, hit it again, but harder this time. If violence isn't solving the problem you simply aren't using enough of it."_ ~ the questionable wisdom of not only Song Si, but also several of the Adepts currently in London.

**X- Hidden entrance to the Ministry of Magic, Whitehall, London, September 20th, 9:27 p.m.**

"Are you sure this is the right place, Ashley?" Dudley asked skeptically as he, Harry, and Ashley gazed upon the entrance to the Ministry of Magic.

"Positive, I may not have ever gone into the place, but I know for a fact that we're standing right on top of it. And I'm fairly certain that that," she said, gesturing to the object that Dudley was scrutinizing skeptically, "is the way to get inside."

"Well, if you say so, but I've got to agree with Dud on this. That has got to be the stupidest way to hide the entrance." Harry said with a small scowl as he too gazed upon the entrance.

"Well what's the matter with it?" Ashley asked in confusion.

"It's a fuckin' phone booth," Dudley offered.

"It's like they're begging for a Mundane to stumble onto them," Harry added.

"Oh, come off it you two, the thing is warded to keep people from noticing it, so there's no way that anyone can just stumble onto it." Ashley argued as she started towards the aforementioned phone booth.

"Yeah, but that's just the thing, the only wards on this piece'a junk are those, what'cha call'em, 'notice me not's, and muggle repelling charms, right?" Dudley questioned the exact nature of the wards, receiving a nod from both his companions, "Well see, those things ain't much good." He finished.

"How so? They've kept the magical world secret so far." Ashley wondered.

"Yeah but how many people with photographic memories have they had to lobotomize?" Harry questioned as they stopped in front of the booth.

"Huh?"

"It's like this, the notice-me-not wards up here may be scribed just to keep Mundanes from noticing anything off. But even the spell in general can be bypassed. All it really takes is a well ordered mind." Harry explained.

"Well ordered mind?" Ashley asked in confusion.

"I'm a perfect example," Dudley explained. "I don't have any magic whatsoever. But I can still see this fuckin' thing. I can do that cause my mind is controlled enough that when the magic tries to make the thing slide past my senses, my mind notices my senses trying to do stuff they shouldn't, and corrects for it. Thus making the wards useless."

"Really now?" Ashley asked in wonder, not quite sure how to take the realization.

"Yeah, that's pretty much how a lot of Ki Adepts find out about magic. With their minds so well structured from meditation, the usual methods of keeping a Mundane out of the Mages world fails completely and magic is no longer so big of a secret." Harry explained with a wry smile.

"Damn, that's actually pretty neat. But that still doesn't explain what you meant about people with photographic memory being lobotomized." Ashley pointed out as she slid the booth's door open and stepped inside.

"Well, you see all that meditation that an Adept goes through pretty much givesthem a photographic memory along with all their Ki abilities. But what about all the people out there who are naturally born with photographic memories? When it's an Adept, they can usually just get out of there before they're hit with anything too bad. That or they're odd enough that no one notices they shouldn't be there. But a Mundane with none of our martial training, they're just sitting ducks. They've got no way to defend themselves when they stumble upon magic, and you can't just erase part of their memory. They'll notice the inconsistencies and holes in their memories that just _shouldn't_ be there. So to try and fill in the whole, they'd retrace their steps leading up to the blank spot. And low and behold the same thing will happen again, and again, and again. Until the person's been memory charmed at least a dozen times over and yet they still try and fill in the ever-widening hole in their memory. It just becomes simpler to erase their _entire_ memories, leaving them with complete and total amnesia." Harry explained to Ashley's horror.

"Th-That's just an extreme case, right?" she asked hopefully.

"I wish," both boys muttered darkly as they too stepped into the phone booth.

"Sad truth is that I've heard of three cases where that's what happened. The end result, well, it's never pretty." Harry said solemnly.

"Heh, only three, I've heard about it over half a dozen times. And I actually met one of the head cases. I got the story from her parents, and then from the Mages that I beat the truth out of. She was a twelve-year-old girl who got curious about a shop people kept passin' in the street without noticin' it. Its window was filled with all kinds of wondrous things that she had always thought were the stuff'a dreams. One day she wandered away from her parents to take a closer look, and then woke up at home, missin' an entire week's worth'a memories. The cycle repeated itself seven times before the Mage runnin' the store got tired'a the same kid wanderin' into his shop every other week, and just erased everythin'." Dudley growled.

"Shit." Ashley gasped at the intense aura that seemed to surround both teens.

"That's kinda why we're doing this, Ashley. Mages, especially the ones in Europe, don't have the best reputation amongst Adepts when it comes to solving problems. We try to let them solve their problems on their own, but sometimes we have to step in. Especially when whatever the problem is threatens more than just the Mages' own little slice of Gaia, and Redsun has already traipsed in our world. We're here to make sure that the Mages actually deal with Redsun in an appropriate manner. If they are, great, not our problem and this was all just needless paranoia. But I for one would rather be paranoid and wrong, than in danger and right." Harry said calmly as he examined the booth in askance, as if waiting for something. "So how does this thing work?" He finally asked.

"Umm, I think there's some kinda code. Though I'm not quite sure what it is." Ashley admitted sheepishly.

"Here let me have a whack at it." Dudley declared as he positioned himself in front of the phone and began entering numbers, seemingly at random.

"Are you sure we should let him be doing that?" Ashley asked skeptically as he dialed.

"Actually it's probably for the best. Dudley always did have good luck." Harry replied with a smile, even as Dudley started talking with someone on the other end of the line.

"What do you-" Ashley found herself cut off from her question when the booth started to descend, much like an elevator.

"Ha. Stupid Mages, teach them ta make the code so obvious." Dudley barked in laughter.

"What the hell?" Ashley questioned in shock. Not quite sure if she should believe their good fortune. On one hand, they were another step closer to their goal. On the other hand, the fact that randomly pushing numbers had actually paid off was slightly worrying.

"So what was the code?" Harry asked curiously.

"64224 or 'magic' if you're gonna go by the word you could spell with it. Man I knew mages were lazy, but the ones here are also predictable. Least in Asia they were a bit cleverer in the way they hid stuff." Dudley chuckled.

"Yeah, kinda makes me glad I ran off. It makes me cringe to think about how I might've turned out if I was brought into their society." Harry nodded as the booth stopped and opened out into a large atrium. Looking around the teens noted several lifts that looked to go further down, as well as a rather large golden fountain depicting a male and female Mage, a goblin, a centaur, as well as some other small humanoid thing neither Harry nor Dudley had ever seen before. However it wasn't the scene being depicted that Harry or Dudley focused in on, rather it was what the fountain was made out of that drew their focus.

"Is that gold?" Dudley asked, a hungry look in his eyes as he took the fountain in.

"I do believe it is." Harry replied, his gaze mirroring his cousin perfectly.

"Okay then, addition to the plan." Dudley started.

"Ensure Redsun's continued imprisonment, and then take part of the fountain home with us?" Harry guessed with a smirk.

"Hell yeah!" Dudley smiled.

"Are you two crazy?" Ashley asked incredulously, now starting to doubt her newfound friends. While it was true that it was far too late for her to break any ties of friendship with them, the fact that they were planning on robbing the ministry in addition to breaking in to it was… well, it was insane.

"Hey, you should know how it is by now. Adepts can't exactly get normal jobs in the modern world, but we do need money to survive. Gold just happens to be something that we can turn into money no matter what country we find ourselves in." Dudley argued while Harry nodded.

"And besides if they can afford to use gold for something like that, as well as their currency, it's not like it would hurt anyone to take a little for ourselves now, would it? After all, we do need to eat." Harry persuaded.

"Well…when you put it like that." Ashley reasoned while looking at the golden fountain in a new light. It took her several minutes of observing the fountain before she reached her final conclusion, "We take the goblin and split the money three ways."

"Deal, now let's go find us an ass-hat." Dudley smiled as he and his cousin began moving towards the lifts, followed quickly by Ashley.

"So, how exactly do we find him? None of us know where anything is here; let alone where they'd keep someone like Redsun. Hell, I don't even know what half the departments here are even called. I really only paid attention to the law office and the department that handles magical beasties." Ashley asked as they stepped into a vacant lift.

"Well now that we're here, I can kinda sense the ass-hat." Harry replied, drawing a raised eyebrow from Ashley.

"Sense him? Is this one of those fancy Adept tricks?" her curiosity piqued.

"Pretty much, both me and Harry can sense the energy people give off. It's how we managed to track you down earlier. Though Harry is better at it than me, partly cause he cheats." Dudley explained, though he took the time to make a verbal jab at Harry.

"Not my fault I was born with more skill than you," Harry responded in kind.

"That so, then why'd you need me to find this place if you can just sense him out?" she asked, partly out of genuine curiosity. And partly to keep the two of them from degenerating into an argument they'd likely try to solve through violence.

"Interference, too many magical hidey-holes around London to get an exact read on anything like an individual aura. Now that we're here however, I can find him." Harry explained.

"So where is he Harry?" Dudley asked.

"Down." Harry replied resolutely as he pressed one of the buttons on the panel, level five from what she could see.

"You sure that's the right floor?" Dudley asked.

"Nope," Harry smiled.

"Then why the hell did you push it?"

"I'm guessing." Harry admitted.

"And this is helpful how?" Ashley asked with a growl.

"Well, either we overshoot, we don't go far enough, or we get the right floor. None of us know exactly where he is, so might as well see where luck manages to take us." Harry smiled.

"That's…"Ashley was at a loss for words, she knew she should say that it was something along the lines of 'reckless', 'stupid', 'dangerous', or 'crazy' even. But somehow when they came out of Harry's mouth, they seemed assured, wise, and full of confidence. Part of her knew it was stupid not to call him on how much he was leaving up to chance, something that had always been a fickle mistress. But she reasoned Dudley would probably call him on it.

_'After all Dudley's known him longer and is also an Adept so he can probably cut through whatever aura driven confidence thing Harry was doing' _She reasoned.

"That sounds like a good idea." Dudley nodded, destroying Ashley's fragile hopes that someone had a logical plan.

"Do either of you have even the slightest clue as to what we are going to be doing?" she asked hopefully as the lift came to a stop. And the door started to open, only for Harry to push another button, the seven this time.

"We told you the plan while we were up top." Dudley pointed out.

"Yes, but that plan was very, _very_ simple," She reasoned.

"True, but simple plans are often the best. I may be able to make a complex plan up when the need arises. But in the end I like things simple, easier to improvise when things start to go wrong." Harry explained to her sheepishly.

"So, this whole 'break into the ministry' plan?" she asked, while trying to understand. It's not that she was worried (much) but she wanted to be totally sure of what she would be getting into.

"Well to be honest we're kinda flying by the seat of our pants here." Dudley admitted as Harry yet again pressed a button as the lift came to a stop. Level nine this time.

_'…At least, they're being honest,'_ she thought ruefully.

"So wait, do you guys even have a plan for if we get caught?" She asked, dreading the answer, yet some morbid part of her desired the answer.

"Refer to each other by our titles and hope for the best. You're called Valkyrie by the guys on the street now, right?" Harry smiled.

"Yeah. But seriously, what's the plan?" she asked while nodding.

"We just told you, didn't we?" Dudley asked incredulously.

"That was it?" She nearly shouted.

"Yup," They both nodded.

"That's…good to know," she settled on_. 'They're both completely bat-shit insane.'_

"This is it." Harry commented, drawing Ashley away from her worry.

"Well then, let's go see if he's being well cared for." Dudley said as he stepped out of the lift and into the corridor, a long hallway painted entirely black stretching for a bit before coming to an end. Quickly and quietly the three teens made their way down the hall in absolute silence. They may have been able to talk in the lift, but now was not the time for such things. If any words were to be had now, it would only be words pertaining to what to do next.

As they stepped through the door at the end, the group found themselves walking into a large circular room, the walls of which were lined with doors. Ashley was on the verge of asking which one to take when the walls started to spin. She would admit later that it was slightly disconcerting to watch, knowing that it was some sort of magical defense. Yet even when the room stopped, Harry didn't look the least bit confused. Instead he walked towards one of the doors with a purpose that only a man who knew exactly what they were doing could have, and right beside him was Dudley.

Trusting Harry to know what he was doing, Ashley followed after them as they walked through a door, though she had to ask.

"How're we getting out?"

"The spinning wasn't real, just an illusion, a powerful one by Europe's standards, but still just an illusion. It won't stop us from finding our way." Dudley replied confidently. Ashley nodded at that, since in a way it did make more sense than the entire level shifting as she had at first thought. Not that she wouldn't put it past the abilities of magic to be able to shift the entire level they were on. It's just that such an act would take a lot more effort than what she had come to expect of mages in general.

"So, how much longer?" she asked quietly,

"We're close, but there's someone else nearby." Harry replied.

"How close?" Dudley questioned.

"To us or to the ass-hat?"

"Both."

"Whoever it is, is getting close to Redsun, and that means they're about as far away as he is." Harry replied as he moved forward. It was as they moved forward that they began to make out voices coming from ahead.

"So…holding… quite… effective prison," an unfamiliar voice spoke, it was a calm, and taunting voice, yet there was no warmth to it, only bitter ice.

"Silence…you speak… what… want?" the second voice was doubtlessly Redsun's, all arrogance, rage, and pride. Even imprisoned he still maintained all of the bluster Harry and Dudley had come to expect from him.

It was as they rounded a corner that they came within hearing and viewing range of the speakers. While one of them was most assuredly Redsun, he was not as any of them remembered. Gone were his regal vestments, replaced by tattered robes of a dull grey and lined with glowing runes. The Artificial-Adept sat cross-legged in the exact center of a circle of pure white light, and while none of the teens knew exactly what it was, they could guess to its purpose. However, it was the other figure that drew their attention.

The man bore a slight resemblance to Harry. His hair a deep ebon color and his build was roughly the same. Though his hair was fair more tame than Harry ever had hopes of making his own. He also had far less muscle mass than Harry. He wore robes that marked him as an Unspeakable (not that any of them knew this) and he stood with a regal air to him that was far more refined than Redsun's. They could not see his face, so they could not make out his eye color, but when he spoke it was with the same cold, taunting voice as before.

"Now, how can I tell you what I want if I am to be silent in the presence of Merlin reborn? Really now, you should decide what you want before making such demands." the mysterious Mage taunted.

"Grr, speak! Tell me, what purpose you could have to mock me?" Redsun demanded angrily from his prison.

"Mock you? Hmm, yes, I could see how you might take this as some form of mockery. Though it is only an unintentional side effect of the exact predicament we find ourselves in. But no, my dear boy, I did not come here merely to taunt you. To do such a thing is a waste of both our time. What I am in fact here to speak with you about is your research. Which, might I say, was quite the curious read," the other man spoke.

"Curious! You call the greatest discovery since the creation of the Philosopher's Stone a mere curiosity?" Redsun growled angrily.

"Hehehe, you have quite the temper, Damien Starbright. You should learn to control it before you annoy the wrong people." The free Mage spoke with condescendence dripping from each word.

"How do you know that name?" Redsun hissed angrily.

"You will find that there is little about this department that I don't not know. After all, I run it." The dark hair man answered calmly.

"You lie. You cannot be the Head Unspeakable. You are far too young." Redsun replied coldly.

"Young, am I? I suppose you would think so based on my appearance alone, but it is no matter. Sufficed to say, my dear boy, that I am far older than you." was the man's response.

"You also do not sound like the Head Unspeakable." Redsun added.

"Ah, I am guessing you are referring to the man that swore you in several years ago when you first became an Unspeakable. Well it is my grave duty to inform you that, that man suffered a rather unfortunate accident last year." The dark haired mage supplied.

"You killed him?" Redsun asked with a raised brow, now curious to this strange and cold man

"Perhaps. But that does not matter right now, my dear boy. I am quite curious to this energy you have found. This 'Ki' I believe you referred to it as, is quite remarkable. By itself, it grants the wielder great power, but when mixed with magic it increases the ability ten-fold, it even allowed you to bypass the need of a wand to cast your spells. And according to your research, this power is present in every single living being on the planet." The dark Unspeakable continued lightly.

"Yes, I did find evidence that all life possesses Ki, but it is only a rare few that learn to utilize it." Redsun replied his interest visibly piqued.

"Yes, the ones you referred to as Adepts. To think that _muggles_ were capable of such power. It is both disgusting and intriguing." The man hissed the word 'muggle' like it was something foul. Like he had tasted bile and rotting meat with a dash of fresh feces when the word passed through his lips.

"Not all of them were Muggles. I know of at least two who were once wizards, yet they are much the same now as any other Adept running about." Redsun replied.

"Oh, and who might these wizards be? I'm quite curious to gaze upon those who have forsaken our ways completely, yet have grown powerful through this strange ability," the man asked, causing the three observers to tense.

"First tell me who you are, exactly, and what is it you want from me?" Redsun asked.

"Hmm, I suppose that is a fair trade. My name is Thomas Marvolo Riddle the 3rd. Though that is only the name anyone here might have on record. No, my real name, which I suppose is what you surely want. Well I believe the world at large still refers to me as You-Know-Who." The dark haired man replied, confusing his observers. None of them had spent much time in mainstream magical Britain, so they were truly unaware of who exactly the Riddle guy was referring to. However, Redsun's eyes widened in shock at the revelation and he grew visibly afraid of the man before him, much in the same manner as he had when confronted with Li and Song.

"You're supposed to be dead," he said hollowly.

"Yes, I suppose I am. Though, I am happy to say that Death and I shall not be meeting for a rather long time, not if I have any say in the matter. Now, I believe you wanted to know what I desire from you. I desire you draining ritual. Such power in the hands of _muggles_ is blasphemy. It is an outrage to our race, and I will not stand for such a thing to continue! What I want is for you to continue your research on the Adepts, and improve on it." Riddle continued darkly, causing the three teens observing the event to glower darkly.

"And how am I to do that from a cell in Azkaban? For that is the best I can hope for. The evidence against me is rather… damning. I will be incredibly lucky not to receive the Kiss for my crimes." Redsun replied sardonically, his fear forgotten in light of the revelations Riddle brought to bear.

"Hehehe. You think yourself such a threat to our world? No, with the evidence of Chang's return and the 'army' he supposedly leads. You will find that the Ministry will be quite willing to forgive your transgressions in return for your services against the menace of the 'Dark Lord Chang'." Riddle chuckled.

"And my part in breaking the Stature of Secrecy? Even if I agree to _help_ the Ministry, my part in that scuffle has doubtlessly put quite a few people in a tizzy." Redsun asked.

"Well, you will find that with the right amount of gold, delivered to the correct people, will overturn any evidence," the teens could hear the cold smile in Riddle's voice, chilling them ever so slightly.

"So I am to be a free man?" As an afterthought, Redsun added. "That is pleasant to know, my lord."

"So you do learn to mind your betters?" Riddle spoke in mock surprise.

"I am in no position to think of you otherwise," Redsun replied.

"Good, you have sense. Now tell me, who were the two wizards who became Adepts?" Riddle demanded.

"You probably already know of one. Chang is quite hard to miss." Redsun answered.

"I had suspected as much, but who could the other one be?"

"The-Boy-Who-Lived," Redsun replied, catching Riddles full attention.

_"He lives!"_ Riddle hissed in shock.

"Yes, he does. I believe him to be Chang's apprentice. He is quite skilled, and already he is very powerful." Redsun supplied.

"This changes things." Riddle said coldly.

"How so, my lord?"

"I thought Potter to be dead, or at the very least gone for good. But if he truly is alive and in London, we need to find him: find him and end his pathetic existence." Riddle spat in anger.

It was at this point that Dudley looked to his cousin in a minor bit of fear. He could still hear Redsun and Riddle talk, discussing the most effective ways to end Harry's life. Dudley would never admit it out loud, but Harry was one of the few people he was close to. That these two were so casually discussing the murder of his cousin enraged him. If he was in any other position, he would have attacked already. Yet here, in the Mages' seat of power, he could do nothing but observe. To do anything else had the potential to draw an untold amount of mages on their heads. Besides, it wasn't part of the plan, they needed to be in and out, with no one the wiser to their presence. Already they were risking things by staying in the same place for so long.

Harry apparently was of the same mind, as it was quite abruptly that he turned on his heel and started to leave. Headed back the way they had come with more haste then when they had entered. Some might have said that it was because he now knew the route so being cautious wasn't as necessary. Dudley knew better than that. Harry was visibly shaken by the two casually talking about his death the way they had. Not the supposed death he had suffered when Chang took him in, but rather it was the fact that two individuals were discussing the best way to murder him while he listened in. For all the random logic and distorted reasoning that came with being an Adept, even they could be disturbed by their own mortality.

And Harry was no different.

"We need to find where they're keeping the evidence," he heard his cousin mutter.

Ashley heard it too, for she questioned him on the destination, "Why there?"

"We need to make sure that the evidence is so damning that even with the bribes, Redsun has no hope of getting off. Isn't that what Song said?" Harry asked him.

"Yeah, but do you really think it could work?" Dudley asked skeptically.

"Maybe, we have to try though." Harry admitted as they stepped back into the circular room. This time Harry didn't even wait for the room to stop spinning before walking forward and grabbing the handle that lead to the corridor they had entered from, completely ignoring and dispelling the illusionary spinning.

"Umm, guys, there is another option," Ashley spoke tentatively.

"And that would be?" Harry asked calmly.

"Well, those guys didn't even notice us. Couldn't we just take'em out now?" she asked calmly. Harry and Dudley paused at the question, stiffening before continuing onward.

"That ain't an option, Ash," Dudley sighed.

"Why not? They were planning on killing Harry. Why should we give them any leeway?" she demanded fiercely. Neither boy said anything as she revealed that she now knew the full truth of Harry's identity, they didn't really care that much at this point.

"Ash, we just ain't killers," Dudley replied coldly. He knew why she was suggesting the option. Two men were planning on killing the person she had tentatively allowed to become her friend. There were very few people who could hear about such a thing and not react as strongly as she now was.

"That's it? That's your only defense? You guys are just going to let them plan out how to kill Harry, to plan out a war against the other Adepts? We could end things before it even started, and you're just going to walk away?" she asked incredulously.

"Killing them now wouldn't stop the war, it would just get it stared that much faster," Harry replied as he entered the lift, studying the buttons this time, trying to determine which floor would hold the evidence presented at a trial.

"And what do you mean by that?" Ashley asked skeptically.

"Think about what would happen if we attacked them here. I don't know if either of you could sense it, but that Riddle guy, he was powerful. And Redsun is too, even without Chi. They wouldn't have gone down quickly or quietly, even if we had got the drop on them. We'd have made a lot of noise taking them down, enough to draw more people to the scene. What do you think they'd have seen? Would they see three teens trying to prevent a war, or would they have seen the two apprentices of a dark lord and their pet lycanthrope attacking ministry personnel? Right now, that Riddle guy is an underground faction; he has pull, but I doubt he can get the whole of their world to go to war. However, if we made him a martyr, then there would be a long and bloody battle that I want no part in starting." Harry explained calmly as he finally decided on a floor, hitting the five.

"So we just walk away?" Ashley bristled.

"Unfortunately, that's how we've got to do things. It's not the easiest path to take, but then again, the high-road never is." Dudley said solemnly.

"Damn it!" Ashley cursed as she took in their words.

"That pretty much sums things up." Harry agreed.

"So, what now?" She asked bitterly.

"Now, now we gotta make sure that Riddle fails," Dudley nodded.

"Right, so let's- oh shit." Harry cursed as the lift open, revealing that their evening had taken yet another turn for the worse, for there in front of them stood two mages.

"Um, don't suppose you could just pretend you never saw us?" Harry asked hopefully.

333

**X-Department of Magical Law enforcement, thirty minutes ago.**

While Tonks may have loved her job as an Auror and feeling a sense of fulfillment whenever she completed an assignment, there was one aspect of her job that, had she known about it earlier, might have made her rethink her career choice. It wasn't the aspect where she risked life and limb to stop some dark wizard (though this didn't happen often). Nor was it the bits about raiding the homes of families suspected to be housing a number of illegal artifacts. Those had been advertised and dramatized, so as to draw in more recruits, and while she didn't get quite as much heart-pounding action in as she had dreamed about, she still found her fill. No, the part of her job that she truly hated and despised came after all the field work was set and done.

Paperwork.

Like their muggle counterparts, Aurors were required to write up a report after any time spent in the field or after any major incident. The fact that the forms were enchanted to _force_ the writer to print the truth as they saw it was also a bit embarrassing when one first starts out. Once she had been forced to write out how she had fallen down a flight of stairs after being startled by a mouse. The noise caused by this alerted the target to the Aurors presence and allowed for them to make an escape. Needless to say, such a thing being permanently recorded, by her own hand no less, was a sour point for the young Metamorphmagus.

However it wasn't that she found having the truth extracted from her that she found annoying. She had quickly learned that everyone has some such embarrassing statement written down somewhere from their days as a rookie. No, what she found harrowing was the mind-numbing boredom that came from filing report after report. Sure, reading a report could be amusing but writing about events that had happened a little under an hour ago wasn't the best way to spend an evening. And nowadays the reports had begun to grow… scary.

Like this particular report she found herself writing. Tonks had had to deal with a troll, in London. Such a thing hadn't happened in over a century and a half. Yet this had been the fifth such incident in as many months. This one had been found living under a bridge, and had begun reverting to type, grabbing anything that it could as it crossed above. Luckily they had gotten to it before anyone had died, but the fact that the troll had been there in the first place was worrying.

Such a report should be unique, a thing to be talked about in a quiet wonder, maybe even something to brag about in order to score a few free drinks. But with the way things were headed, it wasn't the worst or even most impressive of stories. She personally didn't want to think about the numerous pale and shaken Aurors who had started to drink more and more with each passing month.

Plus with the recent addition of the London Melee, it had become rare for the Department of Law Enforcement to not have at least twenty people working at all hours. Some might have commented fearfully that it was reminiscent of the war fifteen years ago. Others would be exasperated by the workload. Tonks found herself in the latter category.

"Hey, Tonks," her partner's voice called her from her grim thoughts. Looking up she saw Cedric standing before her, a tired look on his face.

"Wotcher, rook. You finish up your report already?" she asked curiously.

"Yeah, I didn't have much to actually report, you and the guy from the Department of Regulation of Magical Beasts did all the work. All I did was get nauseous from the smell." Cedric said sheepishly.

"Yeah, can't blame you from that, rotten meat combined with troll scent can overpower someone unfamiliar to it. We're just lucky none of the remains there were human." Tonks replied as she set back into her work.

"Yeah, hey, listen you gonna be done any time soon?" he asked with a sigh.

"Huh, yeah, almost through with it. Why?" the currently pinkette asked.

"Well, our shift is almost up, and me and some of the boys were looking to go for some drinks, and well you looked like you could use a few drinks yourself." Cedric explained.

"Diggory, you remember what I told about drinking, right?" she asked probingly, earning a blush from her partner.

"Only to partake every once and a while, and never get so soused that I think tangling with dark lords is a good idea." Cedric repeated perfectly.

"Exactly, so why are you going to a pub again?" she pointed out.

"Well, actually, I'm more or less trying to get _you_ to the pub." Cedric admitted.

"Oh? Gotten tired of that girl of yours still in Hogwarts already? So what, you decided to try a more mature flavor now?" she teased, enjoying as the blush built up upon Cedric's face. For a popular pretty boy, he was surprisingly shy when it came to matters such as sex.

"No, nothing like that at all! I would never cheat on Cho!" he hastily defended himself.

"Hahaha, ah, I needed that. And don't worry, rook, I was only teasing. But really, why so eager to get me drunk? You're not playing wing man for someone, are you?" she asked cautiously, remembering the few times one of her partners tried to help a friend get a date out of her. She usually requested a new partner after that.

"Again, nothing of the sort. I just figured you could use some time to relax. I mean you've been stressed out a lot recently, what with the whole melee thing and Potter. I just thought maybe a night out with some friends could do you some good." Cedric replied honestly.

"Maybe, but are you sure getting drunk is the answer?" She asked with a sigh.

"Well maybe not _drunk _but maybe a little loose. I mean a few drinks can't hurt anything right? And besides there are other things to do besides drink." He offered.

"Oh, like what?"

"Unwinding with a couple other people who need to cut loose. Remember what you told me before my first big mission? The one where we raided that black market outpost?" he asked suddenly, allowing Tonks to remember the particular incident.

"'Don't work yourself up too much, otherwise you'll snap like a flimsy contraband wand. And then you're just dead weight trying to get your partners killed. Or worse, a threat to be put down like a dog.' Yeah I remember." Tonks replied.

"So, do I need to say the same to you Tonks?" Cedric asked with a grin.

"No, no, no. You win." Tonks smiled as she added the finishing touches to her incident report.

"Great, so hurry it up." Cedric said with a smug smile, proud that he'd managed to actually win against his stubborn partner.

"I'm coming, just keep your pants on. Oi, boss! I'm headed out!" Tonks called as she charmed her report to find its way to the proper place.

"Don't get hung over!" was the shouted reply, a customary one for any Auror about to leave, whether they went to a pub or not.

"Right. So, come on, rook, you wanted to show me a good time." Tonks said with a suggestive wink, once more indulging in causing the younger man to blush.

"H-Hey!" He shouted indignantly, drawing laughter from several sources.

"Oh, come off it, Diggory, I don't pouch other women's… trophies," she finished in shock as the lift opened.

"Oh shit," cursed the dark haired teen that had captured her thoughts as he looked back into her eyes. "Um, don't suppose you could just pretend you never saw us?" he asked hopefully. The question had caught her so off guard that she actually found herself shaking her head in response.

"Damn, you sure about that? I mean, we don't really want any trouble. Right, guys?" The Hermit asked with an almost hopeful tone.

"Bah, if they're dumb enough to attack us, I say let them. It'll do some good to work out some frustration." The Berserker stated ominously as he gazed at the two of them.

"Oh, don't be like that, Berserker. You know that that won't end well. These guys just don't make for good punching bags. Help me out here, Valkyrie!" Hermit pleaded to the lone female in the lift with them.

"Hermit's right, 'sides this gets in the way of our plan," the brunette spoke plainly as she looked between the Tonks and Cedric.

The scene was so very surreal that Tonks almost didn't go for her wand. 'Almost' being the operative word. Her teacher had long ago drilled it into her that when potential hostiles are in front of you, go for your wand. Even if they didn't make any overtly threatening gestures, you palm your wand. Moody would then go on to say something about how everyone was a threat and the only person you could trust was yourself, so always palm your wand.

Tonks usually stopped paying attention by that point, but she at last took the first two parts to heart. So, even before Hermit had asked his companions to not do anything, Tonks had already drawn her wand, and placed it at a subtle ready position. She now focused on all three individuals, trying to gauge them for any tells that would indicate if they were about to attack. As far as she could tell only Berserker seemed ready to move, Valkyrie seemed to at least be weary of her and those behind her,

Hermit, however, seemed completely calm, or as calm as one can be when a wand is pointed at them. She could tell that something was grating on all three of them, but whether that was their presence in front of Aurors or something else she couldn't tell. Either way it was time to start taking control of the situation.

_'Who knows, this might actually be fortune smiling upon me,_' she thought as she realized that Harry Potter stood before her, of his own free will.

"Stay right were you- oomph!" she grunted.

One moment, Hermit had just been standing there, as still as the other three. And then with only a brief widening of the eyes, he had moved. Rushing forward faster than anything she had seen. Even the recorded fight he and Berserker had had against Redsun didn't prepare her for this. One second he was standing next to Berserker, pleading them to not get violent, and the next he was directly between her and Cedric, arms extended and pushing them both into the wall.

At first, she thought it a reaction to her wand being aimed at them. But as she slammed against the wall, her eyes still locked upon the teen she had such hopes for, she was dimly aware of him catching a ball of light in his hands. In the dazed state that came with being concussed, Tonks watched as in a move mirroring what she had seen years ago as Hermit spun with the force of the spell, all before throwing it right back at its point of origin.

She could only watch in mild awe as the spell hit the ground in front of an Auror who had stood behind them, the obvious castor of the spell. The spell ripped apart the ground and blasted him with the concussive force of his own spell, knocking the older man ass over teakettle. She then watched the reactions of every Auror in the building, as they came pouring into the hall leading to the lift, drawn by the sound of the explosion no doubt. Tonks could only guess what was going through their minds as they saw the scene before them. Three Aurors had been taken down by three teens that, for all intensive purposes, had just broken into the Ministry and delivered an unwarranted (from their perspective) attack. Yet even with every thing happening around her, she could feel Morpheus try to take a claim on her even as he exerted a claim on her partner and Kingsley. But she stubbornly refused to submit.

The person she had dreamt of for so long was right before her. The boy she had failed to save, even after he had saved her. This was her chance to repay her debt to him. She could free him from Chang's bonds and bring him back home into the Light. She refused to believe that he was irredeemable. Struggling to stand, her eyes were drawn to the Hermit, as he stepped back into the lift right as its doors started to close, her chance slipping through her fingers.

"Sorry 'bout that!" she heard him call.

"No," she whispered.

"Quickly, they're headed for the atrium!" she heard someone call, drawing her away from her dark thought.

"All Aurors are permitted to Apparate within the premises of the Ministry, just catch them!" she heard Director Bones order as a series of cracks began to sound within the office.

_'There's still a chance,'_ she thought resolutely, as she too disappeared in a crack.

333

"Fuck, this is not good, guys," Ashley growled as the lift continued its accent towards the atrium.

"How'd they manage to get the drop on us? I thought you were supposed to be watchin' for that, Harry." Dudley accused.

"Well, excuse me for being a little shaken up by the guy talking to Redsun. I'd like to see you be able to focus after that." Harry shot back with an embarrassed blush.

The truth was he had dropped the metaphorical ball in this case, and now they were going to have to deal with the consequences. Hopefully they wouldn't break anyone... permanently anyway. Chances were they would have to fight their way out, so it was unlikely they wouldn't be able to not hurt anyone. Especially after he had grabbed that spell bolt and thrown it back. He could guess from most peoples perspective his actions did look pretty hostile, especially the way he shoved the two mages out of the path of the magic. He had recognized it from the brawl on the platform, an explosive spell, and even if he, Ashley and Dudley could have taken the hit, he didn't know how the blast might affect the two squishy Mages in front of them.

His actions were a calculated risk, but in the end no one had died according to his senses. So it was a success, but a success that was bound to have everyone up in arms against them. Even now he could feel the signatures of the Mages on the fifth floor... for lack of a better comparison, shift and pop out of existence, only to reappear above them.

"They're cutting us off," he said calmly.

"Fuck, looks like we're fightin' our way out'a here. I'm fine with that." Dudley growled as he cracked his knuckles.

"Yeah, not that I want to fight or anything. But I am a bit restless, this could actually be a little fun." Ashley smirked as she stretched.

"Well, looks like we can't avoid this, just try not to leave anything permanent." Harry sighed, though he couldn't help the small smile that worked its way onto his face as he too prepared himself for battle. He was after all quite fond of the act, since one might as well enjoy what they were good at. "Oh yeah, make sure that one of us remembers to grab the goblin statue." Harry added as an afterthought.

"Wait, you still want to grab that thing? During the monumental cluster-fuck we're about to walk into?" Ashley asked incredulously. Once more she was reminded that Harry and Dudley had a rather skewed view of things.

"Hey, gold is gold is gold. After all the shit we went through tonight, I for one don't wanna leave here empty handed." Harry shrugged. Dudley nodded in agreement.

"Fine, but just so you know, highest count gets the most percentage," she agreed while adding a challenge to the table. After all, three-way splits more often than not end up being uneven. At least now she had a chance at getting the greatest cut.

"Deal," they agreed as the lift finally halted and the doors opened.

They would have likely rushed the two and a half dozen Aurors immediately if not for the glowing column that suddenly surrounded them within their first three steps out into the atrium.

"Fuck!" Oddly enough, all three of them had managed to utter that curse at the same time as they came to an abrupt halt, not knowing what the ward surrounding them could potentially do to them. And while Harry and Dudley had enough experience breaking past such things through sheer effort alone, they at least knew that discretion was the better part of valor when it came to such things.

"Circle is in place and holding strong," a voice sounded from one of their surrounding foes.

"Thank Merlin that idiot minister actually listened to me and let us install this thing," the three teens' keen hearing picked up as an older woman stepped from the crowd approaching them without a hint of caution, so assured of her victory was she. "Cease all hostile intentions, you're surrounded and trapped within our wards. If you comply peacefully, I can offer you leniency." She spoke loudly and clearly now.

"Yeah, that ain't happenin', lady. I'd like to see you try to take down even one of us." Dudley replied back.

"Oh and what can you do from in there? No magic can pass through that circle. And while it might mean that we can't attack you, none of you can actually escape. We can leave you three there long enough for hunger and exhaustion to take hold, and then what?" She replied with the confidence of one who was completely assured of their victory. However Harry's laughter quickly began to shake that confidence.

"Damn, Berserker, good job. It would have taken me another couple of minutes to figure out what this thing does. Thanks for getting her talking," he smiled gleefully.

"Oh, well, how does knowing what it does matter? It doesn't change the fact that you're still trapped." she replied, her confidence slightly shaken in the sheer lack of visible reactions the three were exhibiting. Ashley might have shown something, but while she had begun doubting her new friends' sanity, she didn't doubt their skills in the least.

"Well, that's simple, lady. Any idiot knows that the first thing to do when you wanna bust past a ward is know what it does. Now that we know what it does, it shouldn't be too hard to get out. And that's where the fun starts." Dudley smiled his best predatory smile, further shaking the woman present.

"Impossible, you think you can get out of the best wards the ministry has to offer?" a voice in the background called out in fear.

"Please. If this is the strongest you've got, then we'd be doin you a favor by bustin it up. You Mages really need a good kick in the ass to start movin'. This shit isn't even a quarter as strong as some of the shit I've busted past before. And Hermit here's just as good at ward bustin' as me. Can't say the same for Valkyrie here, but hell we'll work on that later." Dudley smiled.

"No way," Someone in the assembled crowd whispered in such fear and shock it was almost tangible.

"Oh, yes way. But no need to do anything like that though, cause after all, all this thing does is keep magic from passin through." Dudley smirked as he delivered the coup de gras, by simply walking through the barrier unhindered. "Lucky for me then that I ain't no stinkin cheater of a mage."

"He says that while he basically cheats their system. Man, is there anything you two do that is even remotely logical?' Ashley whispered while taking in the shocked faces of every mage present, feeling oddly elated because of their failure.

"Logic? What is this strange and alien concept you speak of?" Harry asked in mock confusion. But even as he spoke, Ashley could see his muscles tensing in readiness. Though, she did find it odd that the tension looked more like he was preparing to leap straight up rather than forward.

She quickly saw the reasoning for it as Dudley began to bring his fist downwards. She had heard enough talk to know that the Berserker was capable of causing small and localized earthquakes from his fists alone. Joining her new friend in the air as Dudley's fist made impact with the ground, she had to suppress her urge to goggle. The impact was not just a simple shockwave throughout the ground, but rather the earth cracking in a gaping fissure, with his first as the starting point. The break extending in front of and behind the smirking blond, rendering the floor quite unstable as several pieces began to crumble and fall to the level below. And as the two airborne teens began to submit to gravity's hold, Ashley could see why he chose such a tactic. Not only had it shaken the faith and standing of every one of their foes, but it had also destroyed the runic array that had forged the ward that had held her and Harry in place.

"Damn it, Berserker! I thought I told you to hold back!" Harry shouted.

"Aw, bite me, Hermit! It worked, didn't it? Don't fix what ain't broke." Dudley argued.

"You broke the goddamn floor, idiot!"

"Oh, is the namby pamby mage boy gonna cry. Boo-fuckin-hoo!" Dudley taunted.

"Says the spoiled mama's boy who would always cry to get his way. Isn't that how you actually started the Art: bawled your way into lessons?" Harry sniped.

"You wanna dance?"

"Bring it!"

"Oi, will you two shut up? We've got more important things to worry about right now. I'm sure that after we're done here you two can just whip'em out and compare sizes. But right now, we've got bigger problems!" Ashley chided, as she got ready for battle. Despite herself, she couldn't stop the words that came after. "Man, it's like looking after small children." Ashley muttered to herself with a wan smile.

"Che, Valkyrie's right, Hermit. We can settle this later." Dudley conceded.

"Right, or we can settle it now. After all, highest score gets the biggest cut. Doesn't that mean they won?" Harry pointed out as he assumed his customary ready stance. Hands held loosely up and feet apart.

"Guess you're right about that. So let's get started then." Dudley nodded.

It was with that nod that all three teens took to the still dazed and confused Aurors scattered throughout the atrium. They had obviously not expected Dudley's **Fissure** any more than Ashley had. However, she had been in the air and able to dodge any lingering effect that such a devastating technique could cause her. Others were not so lucky.

Already the scene from the station repeated itself as the three moved from Mage to Mage, rarely dishing out more than a single blow before moving towards the next target. Some however managed to recover faster than others, and began to engage to three teens in battle. Much like the young woman Harry found himself dancing around. He noticed that her legwork was decent, and he could sense a bit of power in each spell. But it was a complete shock to him, when directly after dodging one of her spells she called out to him.

"Why are you doing this!" she sounded desperate for an answer, even as her hair and eyes shifted through colors, further drawing Harry's interest.

"Haven't you ever heard of 'self-defense'? You guys attacked us first." He pointed out as he deflected a spell coming in from behind him, before trying to move toward his foe. However he was shocked when with a crack she disappeared and reappeared ten feet away, spell already loosed at him, another of those red ones that knock people out.

"You broke into the ministry!" she pointed out incredulously as he dodged yet again.

"Okay I'll admit that that wasn't the brightest idea in the world. But hey, we just wanted to make sure that you handled that Redsun bastard properly. Hell, when you caught us, we even asked if we could just go on our way. But nooooo, you lot have to start attacking us." Harry replied as he caught the next spell, throwing it right back at her. This time she whispered a soft word, forming a translucent silver shield around herself that blocked the returned spell.

But now that she was shielded, Harry moved in to strike. Moving quickly he brushed past the shield even as the Auror started to back-peddle. Already it was too late for her though, she couldn't escape him and he didn't feel the energy build up in her that would have signaled a teleportation. But against all odds, his attack actually missed. Because quite unexpectedly during her back-peddle, the now white haired Auror tripped on a stray rock kicked up from Dudley's attack earlier. His fist sailed clean over her, but even as she fell she didn't lose sight of him and she hadn't dropped her wand.

_**"Depulso!"**_ the woman incanted. From point blank range, Harry was blasted backwards as the spell connected with his chest. It wasn't the most painful of experiences, but it sent him flying back far enough to give the Auror room to teleport away.

With a small surge of excitement, Harry twisted himself in the air, turning what could have been a painful crash into a wall into a landing. He quickly pushed off from his impromptu landing pad towards the reemerging energy signature of his newest foe. This Mage was different form the others for some reason. She had a fire present in her during their bout, which Harry couldn't help but admire. He didn't even care if he fell behind in his competition with Dudley. Even if Dudley defeated more opponents than him this night, he would consider this his victory. At least in part, he had actually found a semi-worthy opponent amongst the Mages.

She reappeared in a crack just as he was closing in on her. He could see the startled look in her eyes as he cut through the air. Yet even as the shock and fear registered in her eyes, Harry's foe was already moving. Bringing her wand to bear she sent another spell towards Harry.

"_**Bombarda!"**_ she shouted as the yet another bolt flew towards him. Though this time he barely moved, instead of trying to dodge or even throw the spell back at her, Harry merely batted it out of the air, throwing it upwards. Distantly he noted that it cracked the ceiling.

"You're pretty good. That last spell had a bit of power to it," he commented with a wicked smile, even as he threw a wicked haymaker at her. Not as powerful as he could, but with more strength that he had used on any other mage in England. He didn't expect it to hit, and was proven correct when she jumped back.

"You're enjoying this?" she accused eyes wide.

"Of course I'm enjoying it! Why the hell shouldn't I? You're not even an Adept and yet you've managed to keep up with me. For a squishy Mage, that's quite the accomplishment." Harry nodded as he landed with his hands up. Though he grew curious as he noted her stiffen at his words.

"So, it's true, you are his apprentice," she murmured.

"You talking about Li now? What's Pops got to do with this? You should focus on the now, we've got a fight to finish!" he shouted as he charged forward, lashing out with a roundhouse kick. Yet even as it sailed towards her head, once more she disappeared in a crack. Spinning on the foot still on the ground, Harry turned towards were he sensed her signature move towards. Gathering a sliver of Chi in his hand he threw his bolt of power just as she reappeared.

The bolt struck true, blindsiding the mage and sending her careening away. Harry waited only a heartbeat before moving after her, knowing that she'd recover from the blow. He'd only put a small amount of force into the Chi-bolt; about equal to the same force she'd hit him with earlier. He wasn't quite sure, but he expected that she would be able to take it.

He wasn't disappointed as he saw her gasping for breath but still conscious. Unfortunately for Harry's battle lust though, she looked like she would have trouble moving.

"Well, looks like this is over. Too bad, I was actually starting to enjoy this." Harry sighed even as he moved his head to dodge an errant spell bolt.

"Are you *gasp* gonna kill *pant* me?" the downed Auror question grimly.

"Kill you? Why would I do that?" Harry wondered, cocking his head slightly in confusion.

"Isn't that *gasp* that what Adepts do?" she asked, scorn dripping from her words, and also a small sliver of sadness.

"Now where did you get that impression, I wonder?" he asked rhetorically as he turned away from her, observing the flow of battle. He could see Dudley laughing maniacally as he dodged past spell fire and charging each mage with a reckless abandon that truly personified his nickname. Ashley too battled fiercely, and in all her battles the Mages had a visible look of fear on their faces. Harry figured that it had to do with the fact that she was fighting while halfway between lion form and human form.

Yet the two things he saw clearest of all, the surety of victory for his friends and the utter lack of fatalities. There was absolutely no reason for her to equate the title of Adept with that of a killer. As far as he knew there were no practitioners of Satsujin Ken within London. So there was no way she could have come into contact with them. So that left Harry confused.

"Tell me, where did you hear about Adepts? You know that word, and you think it makes me a killer?" he asked calmly.

"Aren't you? You're Chang's apprentice." She pointed out.

"Man, Mages are so narrow-minded," he sighed as Dudley defeated the last Mage standing. Meanwhile, Ashley had already worked her way towards the fountain. No doubt in the process of removing the golden goblin. "Listen, I don't know what horror stories you've been told, but they're probably exaggerations. Just as not all Mages are good or evil, or whatever you wanna define them as. Not all Adepts are bloodthirsty monsters intent on slaking their hunger with your entrails. In fact, the Adepts who are like that are the minority. We, of the Katsujin Ken, are those who dominate our society." Harry explained slowly, as if speaking to a particularly stubborn child.

"Why then did you do this?" she asked skeptically.

"Like I told ya, you lot attacked first, we'd have gladly just left you guys alone if you'd done the same. Besides we were here for a really good reason, though I doubt you'd believe that even if I told you," Harry replied as he turned away from her, walking calmly towards Dudley and Ashley. He couldn't quite hear what they were saying from the other side of the atrium, but he could guess they were arguing about score count.

"Wait!" the mage called, drawing his attention back to her. Her tone was different now; no accusation veiled in her words, only a desperate plea to reach him. "You don't have to go back to him. You can stay here. You can come home, Harry." she pleaded.

Harry, of course, didn't know how she could have figured out who he was, nor could he tell why she sounded so desperate to get him to stick around.

"Sorry, but I'm just fine where I am," he smiled ruefully. He could see the shock work across her face as her features changed. Her hair a dull brown and eyes turning into a mournful black, even her heart-shaped face seemed to droop and crack. He could spot moisture building in her eyes, yet he still didn't even know the cause.

"Why?" It was a single word, and yet it conveyed so much. So much that Harry didn't even know just what she wished to know the reason behind. Why had he abandoned the wizarding world? Why was he siding with a (perceived) monster? Why didn't he want freedom from his master? So many questions packed into that one little word. So many that he couldn't even give an answer.

With another small smile, he simply shrugged and yet again began to walk away, pretending to ignore the sobs coming from behind him. He may have been an Adept, dedicated to the perfection of his art and the protection of those who couldn't protect themselves. But never before had the path he chose to walk reduced someone to such grief.

_'What am I to her? That was more than just the hero worship the first Mage I met showered me with. That was something more, something personal. Have I met her before?'_ he wondered as he closed in on his friends.

"Hey, Harry, she says she took down sixteen of them. Now, there's no way she could have taken out that many. Eleven or twelve I could believe, but not sixteen." Dudley complained.

"Oh and why not? Is it because I'm a girl?" She growled.

"Not even remotely. I just can't believe that Harry took out so few. Cause if you took out sixteen, it'd mean he only took down four." Dudley replied.

"Ah, yeah, about that," Harry muttered sheepishly.

"What? No fuckin' way! What the hell, man?" Dudley said in shock as Harry stepped into the crowded lift.

"Got caught up. One of them was pretty damn good for a Mage," Harry offered weakly.

"Hey, what's the matter, man? You seem off." Dudley asked, genuine concern moving past his bluster.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Harry reassured him.

"Aw, come on, Harry. I know you well enough. If you really did find a good fight, you'd be in a much better mood right now. You look like somebody just stole your last pork bun." Dudley commented.

"Can we just get out of here?" Harry said quickly trying to change the subject.

"Alright, man, but when ya feel like talkin' just let me know. Then I know just what kinda stupid I need to beat out'a ya." Dudley grinned. It was an infectious smile that Harry found himself returning, despite his earlier foul mood.

"You wish, _Diddykins_." He smirked.

"Why you!" Dudley began

"Hey, knock it off, you two! Kill each other when we get out of this thing, but not in enclosed spaces." Ashley chastised as the lift finally came to a stop. Stepping out she had to struggle slightly under the weight of the golden statue. "Little help?" She asked hopefully.

"Heh, what's the matter putty'tat. Too much weight for ya?" Dudley taunted, earning himself a growl in warning. Though, Harry could tell that neither of them intended to actually hurt the other. In fact he was fairly certain that Dudley was doing his best to make Ashley feel welcome… in his own abrasive manner.

"Let's just get out of here. More mages could show up at any minute." Harry suggested as he took one end of the statue in hand. Though as he lifted it, he could see what Ashley meant, the thing had to have weighed at least three hundred pounds. When it finally came to pawning the thing he was sure they'd make quite a bit of money.

"Right. So, where you two headed?" Ashley asked calmly as Harry helped her support the weight of the statue.

"Well, we've got this place, an old bomb shelter that Harry and old man Li fixed up. What about you?" Dudley asked as he leapt upwards.

"Me, heh. Well, truth is I've been squatting in a warehouse downtown," she admitted sheepishly, as she and Harry leapt after Dudley.

"That so? Well, how do you feel about moving up from that?" Harry asked in concern.

"Huh, really? I don't wanna impose or anything," she replied hastily, even though it was clear she would love to get out of the warehouse district.

"Nah, compared to Song and Dudley here, it couldn't be that big a difference. No way you could impose yourself any worse than they are already." Harry replied.

"Well…if you insist," she said hesitantly. Even if internally she was cheering in joy.

"Great, so let's just stop by your old place and pick up anything you need, and then we can head home." Dudley replied. Unaware of the exact effect the word had on Harry's thoughts. Thoughts still clouded by the pleading question of the Auror.

_'Home, huh? I guess it is._'

333

"Damn it! Damn it, damn it, damn it!" Tonks sobbed as the three teens left in the lift.

She knew that she should chase after them. That she should try to stop them one last time. But what could she do to them? The three of them had ripped through thirty Aurors as if they were nothing. What could one injured Metamorphmagus do against such ability and strength? But that was not why she stayed in place. What caused her to sit and stew in her pain was the fact that he had been right in front of her.

Harry had stood in front of her and refused to be saved.

_'Why, why would you go back to him? Why won't you come home?'_ she silently asked as she stared after them.

Tiredly she rose to her feet and observed the damage done. The atrium was a wreck. The floor was cracked, cratered, and even fell completely through to the lower levels in some areas. Unconscious Aurors were strewn about at random intervals throughout the entire floor. She was also fairly certain that several had fallen to the floor beneath them but she wasn't quite willing to check. Hesitantly she made her way to the crumpled figure of Director Bones, the first actual victim of the night who'd been struck down by the Berserker within the first five seconds of battle.

Relief flooded the young witch's as she finally paused before the Director and made out the slowly rising chest. Bones was still alive, injured and unconscious but alive. Tonks would have smiled if it weren't for the tears still in her eyes. Taking a deep breath, Tonks steadied her wand and aimed at the Director.

"_Remmervate."_ She muttered, attempting to charm the Director back to consciousness was difficult in this manner. In most cases, it would have been best to simply leave her and let a natural recovery occur. But in this case, Tonks needed someone else to be in charge. She was tired, depressed, and in physical pain. She had no place taking charge when far more competent people could be found.

"Ugh, Merlin, that hurts," Bones whispered groggily as she attempted to sit up.

"Boss, we've got a bit of a problem," Tonks interjected softly, drawing the department head away from her growing migraine.

"What? What do you wan…t" Bones trailed off, the angry rant, borne from her aching head, died in her throat as she took in the devastation. "We lost then," she whispered.

"Yeah, I'm afraid so. I don't have a list on casualties yet, you were the first person I checked on." Tonks replied, answering the questions that were bound to come before they were even asked knowing well enough the procedure for any sort of loss. Whether it be men lost in the line of duty, or an operation that went FUBAR.

"And the trio?"

"Gone, long gone by now if what they showed was an accurate measure of their abilities," Tonks replied.

"Blast, did they give any indication on where they might be headed?" Bones asked as she climbed to her feet, desperate to find some way to salvage the situation.

"Umm, they might be headed to a pawn shop somewhere nearby."

"And what makes you think that, Auror Tonks?" Bones asked in confusion, knowing that the first thing she would have done after this night would lay low for at least a month.

Tonks merely pointed at the damaged fountain of mystical brotherhood.

"Did they take the goblin?" Bones blinked in confusion.

"I'm fairly certain." Tonks replied, not wanting to admit that she had sat by and watched as they had left. The wound was still far too fresh to think on. Though if things progressed as they already had she would soon be writing it down with the rest of the paperwork.

"Damn it, this just makes no sense. What could they accomplish from this?" Bones muttered to herself as she walked to one of the still downed Aurors. She had expected a corpse, yet as she drew closer, she could see the steady rise and fall of the downed wizard's chest, indicating that he was still breathing. Confused she wandered to the next downed figure, and the next, and then another after that. Each figure was merely unconscious. Sometimes with large welts on their faces and the occasional claw mark, but aside from that they looked perfectly fine. "And why are we all still alive? What the hell are those three up too?"

"I don't know, Director. I just don't know."

333

X- The Bomb Shelter, London, 10:26 p.m.

It was a quiet trio that walked down the steps leading to the bomb shelter turned home. They weren't subdued in any sense of the word, yet neither were they content. The night had been filled with a myriad of twists and turns, and in the end everything had gone straight to hell. Redsun might have been caged, but it wouldn't last. With the support of Riddle, he was likely to be freed within a month's time, and then whatever the two had in plan would move forward unhindered.

To make things worse, they had gotten caught.

"So, this night's been mostly a bust," Dudley muttered as he pushed open the door.

"Got that right, Dud. But hey, at least we can tell the Masters what we found out," Harry nodded.

"And what exactly did you find out?" Li asked calmly as he fazed into sight behind them.

"Ahh, umm," Harry stammered caught off guard by Li's sudden appearance.

"And why do you two have a life-sized golden statue of a goblin? One that, if I recall correctly, is part of a fountain in the Ministry of Magic?" Li continued smiling as he did so.

"Well, you see-" Dudley tried, only for Li to continue his questioning.

"And why exactly did the two of you leave? I remember quite clearly telling you two to stay here for the night." He added.

"Um, well, they needed to check on something important," Ashley tried for the sake of her friends.

"Oh, and what could have been so important that my Disciple would disobey a direct command of his Master? And for that matter, who might you be?" Li asked as he regarded her with a smile. A smile that may have looked rather friendly, yet failed utterly to match up with the visible aura of azure anger that Li was producing.

"Eep," Ashley would've likely killed anyone who Harry or Dudley told about this incident. But at this very moment, with the palpable force of a Master directed solely at her, she had never felt more afraid of anything. And all of this was while knowing that she hadn't caused the anger but had still been misfortunate enough to be in its path.

"We—ahh—We needed to make sure that Redsun was being taken care of," Harry said quickly, drawing his Master's focus back to him.

"So, to ensure that, you two dragged this young girl along with you while you broke into the most important building in Magical London?" Li asked pointedly as he stared at Harry.

"Um, she volunteered," Harry offered meekly. Li could only stare at Harry blankly. Harry quickly began to fidget under the intensity of the stare, squirming as sweat began to pour down his neck. He knew he would be punished somehow but wasn't quite sure how. Finally after what felt like an eternity Li spoke once more.

"Your actions were foolish and reckless. But I can see why you made those choices. You shall receive punishment for your actions though I shall be more lenient than what I had originally intended. You too Dudley shall share in this." Li nodded.

"Thank you, Master." Harry bowed politely, as Dudley mimicked his actions.

"Do not thank me yet, I haven't told you what the punishment is yet." Li smiled again.

"Umm, what is it we're gonna be doin'?" Dudley asked cautiously.

"You shall both be sparring with Song every night for the next month and he will only be holding back ninety percent of his power." Li replied.

"What? I thought you said you were going to be lenient! How is sparring with that mad man 'lenient'?" Harry shouted in worry, even Dudley nodded at this. While he may have loved Song like the father his biological contributor had failed to be, he knew full well how… destructive the man could be in a fight. And considering how destructive he himself was, Dudley didn't relish fighting him.

"This is leniency. Originally I was only going to have you fight him one at a time while he held back eighty-eight percent of his full power. Now the punishment is less severe. If you want, I shall even allow one you to include our new houseguest to join you. After all, she willingly helped you make your foolish choices. It is only fair that she experiences some of the consequences," Li replied, as he suggested (in a tone that told them that it wasn't really a suggestion) Ashley join them for a savage beating.

"Aww, fuck. I don't wanna die," Harry moan piteously, even as Dudley cringed and Ashley whimpered.

"Then you should learn to do as you're told. Now, come, your punishment…starts immediately." Li said as he ushered the three doomed fighters to their fate.

He could wait to learn what they had found. As of this moment, they needed to learn to mind their elders. And besides, this method of punishment would help them in the long run. Battling a strong opponent was the perfect way to increase one's own strength. And after what had happened to them with Redsun, a few broken bones was a small price to pay to ensure no such incident occurred again.

That and what he had planned for every Itinerant Adept roaming London.

333

Fiori: So yeah I finally got this chapter done. I know it's not quite as good as the others, mostly because the fighting wasn't as intense as it usually is. But I have a good explanation for that. Harry and Dudley are members of the Katsujin Ken. That means they have made an oath not to kill people. They are also ridiculously strong, strong enough that a blow by them at full power could turn a normal person into so many red splotches on the wall that they _have _to hold back in fights when they aren't fighting other Adepts. Thus why Harry and Dudley didn't curb stomp the Mages in this Chapter or in Chapter three. Even though they showed more power against Redsun. No with that out of the way, I would like to take this moment to look at all of you who though Redsun was Voldemort, and laugh at you.

Heheheheh, hahahahahahaha, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA **HA! **

Okay I'm done, but seriously? Now that I've gotten that out of my system I as you to review or I won't fire the Ffnet Admin tied to a rocket into orbit.

Admin: Wait don't you mean review or you will fire me into space?

Fiori: Why would I do things that way?


	9. Power

Harry Potter and the Oriental Philosophy

Based on the concept by Tellemicus Sundance

Chapter Nine: Power

"_They say that power corrupts, but do ya wanna know who actually says that? Little wussies that can't do shit for themselves; so don't listen to' em. They're just jealous of the fact that you're awesome." _–The questionable wisdom of Song Si

**X-Northern Scotland, Hogwarts, Room of Requirements, September 20th, 11:16 p.m.**

Power.

Draco had been born to power, to magic, to wealth, and to status. All of his fifteen years upon the earth had been an existence of power. He was the unspoken prince of Hogwarts, the third most talented student in his year, only beaten out by the mudblood Granger and Susan Bones. However, even in those cases, he knew himself to be better than they. Granger only had an edge on him because of her pathological need for approval and academic knowledge. Bones, on the other hand, had been taught by the battle hardened head of the DMLE, who was also her aunt. But he knew that he himself had more mystical talent than both of them.

Yet despite everything, in one brief moment, he had been shown just how _little_ his power meant in the grand scheme of things. Through an act of violence and speed, he had been utterly destroyed. His wealth meant nothing as the twin titans brushed past everyone in their paths. His station meant nothing at all as that giant wrapped his hand around his leg. And what use was his magic when it merely bounced off his foe's skin or was dodged with careless ease?

Compared to those monsters, who couldn't be more than a few months older than him, Draco learned what it meant to be utterly helpless. That moment on Platform 9 ¾ had shattered the carefully maintained illusion of wizard superiority, within him and many others there. As far as Draco knew, Hermit and Berserker had been muggles who had broken past the bonds that held their race in the mud. They had transcended, evolved, and become something he couldn't comprehend.

So he would walk that same path and he would transcend to something even greater than them. It was for that sole reason that he had disregarded the advice given to him by the Head of Slytherin House. The old Draco would have called what he was doing now foolish. But even as he sat there, focusing his power, part of him wondered at what he was doing. And yet again, the all-important question posed by the book before him sprang to his mind.

Why do wizards need wands?

It was the entire basis around which James Shiba had written his tome. Wands were a tool, a focus, a way to allow the untrained to channel and focus their own innate abilities through a simple object and affect the world around them. That was what his father had told him when he had asked oh-so-long ago. But didn't that mean that eventually one would grow to no longer need the use of a wand? That eventually a witch or wizard would be powerful and knowledgeable enough to wield their power unaided?

So why then did even the most powerful wizards of the age need to use a wand to do anything of great value?

Draco knew for a fact that Dumbledore could use wandless magic. He'd seen the old man light candles with a wave of his hand. But could he fight without his wand? Could he trade blows with those two titans, or would he fall before the speed of Hermit, the strength of Berserker, and the combined prowess of both artists of war? And what about father's old master? Would even the Dark Lord be overwhelmed by the abilities of a pair of muggles?

Draco didn't know the answers to those questions anymore. And so, in those moments of uncertainty, he turned his trust to the book.

_We Wizards are born powerful. We have the ability to reshape the world around us. And yet we only seem to use a fraction of that ability through a flimsy and fragile stick. Worse still, we are completely reliant on the core within said stick to be able to do anything. Why, when we have the power within us, do we have to rely on the power of beasts? Magic is within us; it is why we are special. All we must do is reach for it. The body is the vessel for it and our will is the guiding force behind it. In the end, all one truly needs to wield magic, as we were meant to, is a strong body and an indomitable will. Have that, and magic will bend before you, channeled through your body and shaped by your will._

Draco had doubted that at first, yet even he would admit that he could feel something when he followed the exercises within the book. He'd almost given up that first night after finding the tome, spending three hours attempting to simply feel out his magic before finally succeeding. Things had progressed from there and already he was growing more and more used to this method, limited at the moment though it might have been. Which is what he was working on now; increasing the speed he could draw his magic from his core. As he was now, it took him several seconds to make the connection. And seconds were something he wouldn't have when someone like Berserker or Hermit started bearing down on him.

The very second he felt his magic well up from his core, he moved from his meditative pose. Draco took a brief moment to revel in the feeling of his magic spreading out in a web, tying itself to his body. His senses sharpened as the world became suddenly different. He could feel the magic in the air, the sheer presence of the castle and the room he was in. When he'd first done this, he had been brought to his knees by that overwhelming power, now it was simply another thing he'd gotten used to. It was much like he'd gained another sense that he was slowly starting to depend on.

It was through this new sense that he had truly begun to understand the room he stood in now. Dobby had described it well, and he had seen firsthand that it could reshape itself to be anything the user required. But actually seeing the magic twist and turn upon itself was breathtaking. Even now he was still slightly awed as the magic took shape, the immaterial becoming material, the unseen becoming seen, magic twisting the very fabric of the universe and bringing something that hadn't existed into existence.

In this case, it was a stone statue, one that would serve as a target for his spell practice. It was a simple statue that only vaguely resembled a human. Considering the awe he held for its very creation, Draco was _almost_ loath to destroy it after once more witnessing magic shape and change the world around him. _Almost_ being the operative word.

Shaking his head to dislodge any more pointless thoughts, Draco once more returned his focus to the task at hand. Looking inwards Draco used what could only be described as sheer will to focus and control his magic as it welled up within him, and forced it towards his hand in preparation for his spell.

"_**Bombarda**__," _he whispered. Even as he uttered the words, he could feel the energies warp and change within his hand, becoming more than just magic. A solid spell coated his hands in the 'shape' of an explosion, and though he could not see it, he knew that it was there. Now all he had to do was release it.

This was where things started to get difficult. The power was all bottled up within his hands and wouldn't travel very far once he released it, the closer he was the better. To add to that, the speed of his hands also played a part in it, as well as how much space the point of impact covered. It was for those reasons why this new brand of casting reminded him so much of the Hermit and Berserker.

He had to punch his target if he wanted to get the best effect out of his spell.

At first he had thought it mad, resorting to physical means just to use magic. But then again, Draco had remembered the station. The magic for which he was familiar with held no threat to Berserker. And even if a spell might have worked on Hermit, he moved far too fast for anything to even touch him. No, magic as he knew it simply wouldn't cut it. The only way he stood a chance was to reach their level and combine whatever ability he had with devastating magic. That, and he was hoping to move forward to grander things.

_Magic is a tool. Yet the way some of our kin use this tool, one would think they have forgotten how to walk. The magic is the answer to all problems and nothing can dissuade them from this notion. How then are they to defend themselves without their wand? By channeling our magic through our hands and learning to use our bodies in such a manner, we wizards can strengthen our bodies. We may reach the point where our magic is as easily used as our arms. And once one has mastered how to use magic with the body as a vessel and the point of impact as the release point, one can start going further._

That was what Shiba had theorized, and it was what Draco one day hoped to achieve. He had already begun to master this method. And once he had done that, then one day he might very well be capable of truly using wandless magic. The way Merlin had wielded it.

Yet even as Draco prepared to strike out once more, something nagged at his focus. A stray thought that had been appearing more and more recently.

"_Can this really help me?" _Came the unbidden thought, _"I know this works, the results speak for themselves. But if it ever came down to a fight, could I truly win without my wand? Will I truly be able to stand on their level? And what of everyone else; my parents, my housemates, and my professors? How much longer can I keep this from them?"_

Clenching his jaw, Draco forcefully shoved that doubt to the back of his head. He knew this method worked. He knew that his magic was already growing stronger than it had before he started this training. And he knew that he was still just beginning this strange but wonderful journey towards power and legend. How could he possibly reach the level he desired if he allowed doubts of his ability to start manifesting this early?!

Focusing his anger at his own self-doubts, Draco finally lunged forward with a loud battle cry, throwing out his fist with all his strength. The moment his fist impacted the statue, there was a tremendous explosion of shattering stone and a clap of thunder as the magical energies discharged, reducing the statue to mere rubble. Coughing slightly as he waved the small dust cloud out of his face, Draco blinked as he stared down at the result of his latest attempt.

"That hasn't happened before," he commented to himself in surprise.

In the past, he had barely been able to break the statues into smaller pieces. Yet what he had here wasn't just some pile of rubble, it was like the spell he'd used had blasted through the very molecular bonds of the statue and magic, turning a good portion of it into dust. How did that happen? He'd done everything the same way he'd always done it…

That's when he was struck by a sudden epiphany.

"I was angry!" he blurted out, surprise spreading through him as he looked down at his unmarked hand. "I forced my anger into the magic somehow! It must've done something to strengthen or change the magic somehow."

He had to see if he could do this again! If he did, he may have just taken a new step up the ladder towards his ultimate goal. And if it was his anger that caused this, what if he tried to use more than just his anger? What other emotions could he use?

333

**X- London suburb, September 21st 12: 23 a.m.**

Even as Draco trained himself in secret, preparing for the day when he would seek out those who had so thoroughly defeated him, the streets of London were alight with activity. Some of it was the usual activity that any average person would expect. Adults partied, kids studied or slept, cops patrolled, criminals went about their shady business, and Adepts ran wild with reckless abandon. And while it was true that Adepts running amuck was standard protocol during a Convergence, the cover of night had always proved to have the greatest activity amongst the community of Martial Artists.

To understand why, one simply had to remember that while most of the Legacy Adepts lived exclusively with their masters, it was the Itinerant Adepts that made up the vast majority of the Adept population, especially during a Convergence. Tacked onto that fact was that those Adepts were almost always teenagers, and usually had lives outside of the strange new world they found themselves living in. School, work, and parents consumed their time during the day. But come nightfall, the streets and rooftops became their playground and battlefield. Unencumbered by the rules of the day, they roved the streets, training, fighting, and growing stronger with each passing hour.

It was this activity that held the interest of the newest face to grace London's streets during this special time, the largest Convergence to ever occur.

Like a vast majority of Legacy Adepts, she was of Asian descent, yet taller than the average height of many of her countrymen. Standing at 5' 7" she was garbed in black pants and a golden shirt, both were made from finely spun silk. Her dark black hair framed her face, yet was cut short enough to stay out of her jade green eyes.

Eyes that were currently locked upon London with barely contained awe.

"So many people, just how do they fit everyone in there?" she whispered in shock. Like many Adepts, she had lived her life apart from the world. Keeping to the hard to reach areas within China, thus she still felt a bit of awe when in a place where the sheer number of people greatly exceeded any number she could regularly count to without devoting hours of her life to the task.

Quickly shaking her head, the young Adept attempted to rid herself of the shock of _feeling _the life force of so many people packed so tightly within such close quarters with one another. She had more important things to attend to than simply being awed by sheer numbers.

_'Where are you?' s_he thought to herself as she once more cast her senses outward, feeling out the Ki of the inhabitants of London. This time, she was able to ignore the quantity of people and started to focus on the quality of the people within. And once more she had to stifle a gasp. _'So many Adepts, just how many are there? Ahundred? No, wait, two hun-no. Holy shit, there are way too many of them to even count?! What the hell is going on here?!' _she found herself thinking in shock.

She was no stranger to Adepts, being one herself and having met many before now. Her home had played host to small gatherings of her fellow artists before. She had travelled to temples that boasted themselves the last pure havens to True Artists, and both were dwarfed by the numbers before her. There were just so many of them that in that brief instance of shock, she lost her focus on her surroundings. It was only her instincts that kept the monstrous blow headed for her from hitting.

Leaping backwards with a grace befitting any Adept, she narrowly dodged the blow that had come from above, leaving her attacker to crater the ground beneath them. The dust bloom however was not enough to blind her as she rushed forward to counter her attacker. She knew that after such an attack, whoever had attacked her would need to be low to the ground, probably kneeling. With that in mind, she kicked low, sweeping her legs to where she perceived his torso to be. However, she couldn't help the frown that came when she felt her leg impact with her mystery foe. Instead of the familiar sensation of her foot meeting soft flesh, she felt the equally familiar sensation of her leg getting caught on someone else's forearm. Unfortunately for her mystery foe, she had but quite a bit of force behind the kick, thus the sheer force of her blow forced her mystery foe out of his position.

As her unknown assailant finally came into view, she took her first look at him. He wasn't quite as tall as she'd expected. Even for a teen he was small, standing at just barely 5'5". His brown hair was shaggy and cut close to his face. His cloths were worn and torn, his blue jeans missing both knees and his shirt was filled with numerous holes. There were also quite a few blood stains on both. And finally there were his eyes. A pair of chocolate brown orbs that despite their dull color, shined with utter and complete confidence, almost arrogant.

"So, mind telling me what the attack is about?" she asked sarcastically as she locked her eyes with his.

"Do I really need a reason?" he asked as he rose from his landing. She of course could only blink at the answer in confusion.

"Well, most people usually have a good reason to attack others, least where I come from." She replied evenly, trying her hardest not to lose her temper.

"Heh, this is the Convergence, girly. The only reason I need is the test of my Art against yours." He scoffed.

"A good a reason as any I suppose, but at least give me a name first, I like to know who I'm fighting," she smiled confidently as she moved back into a loose fighting stance.

"Suppose that's fair, name's David. Now, are you ready to fight?" the now-named fighter smirked. Yet he could not help but recognize something in his new opponent's stance, a hint of familiarity that scratched at his memories.

"Well, if it's a fight you want, here's to mindless violence!" she shouted. Yet even as she prepared to charge forward, David had already gone on the attack, reopening the battle with a vicious right straight aimed for her diaphragm.

She in turn peddled backwards, curious to gauge the strength behind her attacker, yet unwilling to take the blows to test them. Thus, with no desire to have her chest caved in, the girl moved to the defensive. Yet even as she moved away from the charging teen, she was not idly dodging. Even as David pursued her, she had begun pouring her power into her hands. She had to smirk at the look of shock that crossed his face as the ball of Ki formed, glowing dark orange color. Not even giving David the chance to change course, she launched the now formed ball of energy at his foe.

Yet, even as the attack rocketed towards him, the English fighter didn't change his course. Nor did David flinch even as the ball of Ki threatened to impact. Instead, the teen paused briefly in his charge to swat the ball of condensed life-force away from him, sending it hurtling upwards. Yet that pause was enough for the girl to change the flow of battle, charging forward, she sent a barrage of blows towards David, forcing him onto the defensive.

Yet as the barrage continued, David felt a slight tug on his memory as the girl before him attacked ferociously. He couldn't help but recall weathering a similar assault before. The attack patterns where the same, as was the ferocity of the attacks, even the same holes in his defense were tested. But for the life of him, David couldn't place a name to the similarities.

Casting the nagging thoughts from his mind, he finally spotted an opening in the vicious assault his foe was leveling at him. It was small and only showed up after a right hook. But it was the opening he was assured would turn the fight in his favor. However, if he were to take the strike and hit, it would doubtlessly be a crippling blow, maybe even a fatal one if he was wrong about her proficiency with The Art. A normal human would likely die from a strike to the kidneys from the angle he was going to attack from, not to mention the force he'd put behind it. And while Adepts were doubtlessly tougher that a mundane human, they still had the same vital organs and thus a strong enough strike could kill an Adept the same as it could kill a human.

_'Our goal as Adepts is to preserve life, not to end it. Just because we are strong does not give us the right to lord it over others.'_That is what his master would say to him, if he ever knew that David was in such a situation. Yet, even as he dodged back and the right hook came again, he couldn't help but snarl at the words. He could _win,_ if only he took the shot. And if there was one thing he hated, it was losing. But if he hit, she could die. Yet even as he she moved past the combo and started to attack again, this time forcing him back, he remembered the words spoken to him by _him. _He didn't know the stranger, but much of what he said spoke to something deep within David and reached farther than the words of his teacher.

"_You would intentionally weaken yourself and allow your foes an advantage? What if they had no qualms about hurting or killing you? Would you really allow such a thing simply because you might hurt them? Pitiful! If they were truly strong, then it doesn't matter what you do to them: they will survive or they will fall."_

With those words in mind, he once more saw the opening left by the girl's right hook and this time he didn't hesitate. Lashing out with a round house kick, he felt exhilaration as the previous stream of attacks was halted as the girl was forced to block his attack. Yet even as his leg connected with her arm and he prepared to turn the tables, David failed to realize just what sort of danger he was in, not until the girl's voice broke through his battle haze.

"Gotcha," she intoned in a singsong voice, even as her hands lashed out quick as a snake, turning a block into a grab. Once again, David was struck with an odd sense that this exact situation had happened to him, and then the moment passed as the girl gripping his leg began to slam him into the ground repetitively.

Once, twice, four times, by the time she had tired of slamming him into the ground and switched her tactics to tossing him into the air, David had lost count of the number of times she had slammed him back and forth into the ground. By then, he was doing all he could to maintain consciousness. As of this point, he barely had the awareness of self to realize that he had been thrown directly above the girl he'd been fighting, and was now falling back towards her. Thankfully, his instincts could track the steady buildup of Ki coming from beneath him. His body moved with little conscious thought, just as he'd been trained to. But it was as his foe's fist connected with his arms that he was shocked back to full awareness. This was because of the small explosion that her fist kicked up when it connected with him.

While an exploding punch wasn't anything particularly special amongst Adepts, it was the pattern of the Ki pumped into the technique that pulled at his mind. David had always been good at reading energy flows. Even before he had become an Adept, he could get a vague sense of how strong a person was. It was this rare talent that had initially attracted his Master to him. After discovering his potential, that skill had only grown, almost to the point where he could recognize styles based entirely on the way they shaped their internal energies.

And the Ki pattern behind that punch was near identical in usage to one by another fighter, a fighter who had routinely utilized the exact same combo, right down to the same explosive finish.

As David flew through the air once more, he did his best to correct his flight. Sadly, even as he righted himself in the air, the cramped nature of England came into play as he slammed bodily into a building, cracking and denting the wall. Still, this impact and his fall to the ground weren't enough that he was distracted from the recent revelation he had.

"That's… Berserker's style," he grunted as he tried to right himself. But once more he found himself slammed back into the wall, yet this time not by a punch. Now he was pinned to the wall as the girl glared at him.

"Whose style did you say this was?" she asked dangerously.

"Berserker's." he grunted out, only to be slammed back into the wall again.

"I didn't ask for a nickname. Now, tell me his actual name!" She growled.

"He—He says his name is Dudley…Dudley Si," David answered, suppressing the rage he felt for being so roughly handled.

"That utter bastard!" she growled even as she released David to slam her fist into the much abused wall. "What right does he have to that name?!" she continued.

"Wha?" David managed to grunt as he fell to the ground.

"Now, next question, do you know where he is?" she asked the fallen teen.

"Why are you looking for him?" David questioned as the ringing in his ears started to die down.

"That is a very personal question to be asking me, especially after what you tried earlier. If you'd tried that on anyone else, during any other time, I can guarantee they wouldn't have been half as friendly as I'm being." she replied with the faintest hint of animosity.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he replied, his wits finally returned to him.

"Randomly attacking me for no other purpose than to fight, I know quite a few people who'd have broken your arms for that," she shot back.

"Well, what else should I be doing? This is The Convergence, the great battle royal of the Adepts, where anyone can test their might and skill against anyone else! So long as both people walk away afterwards." David replied hotly.

"You think I don't know that! I have been trained as an Adept since I could walk, and this!" she said gesturing towards the city, "was supposed to be my right."

"Huh?" David asked in confusion not understanding her vague answer.

"My family has been in charge of starting the Convergences ever since the first gathering of Adepts. So, you can see why I'm _quite_ angry with that dick-munching white boy who _dares_ to claim my name."

"Y-Your name?" David whispered in shock.

"Yeah, my name is Xianghua Si, and right now I need to have some words with _Dudley, _and my father about all of this. And trust me, you will be a _lot_ healthier if you tell me every last single detail of what you know." So spoke the eldest daughter of Song Si.

333

**X- Ministry of Magic, Hall of the Wizengamott, 3:23 a.m.**

To call the hastily assembled meeting chaotic would be a drastic understatement. Chaos would have been calmer.

"How could you let this happen Amelia?!" Minister Fudge tried to sound imperious, but only managed to sound whiney.

"I did not _let _this happen! We reacted perfectly. Every measure was taken and we had a contingency of thirty Aurors. Hell, we even deployed our strongest containment ward on them when they exited the lift into the Atrium. They just tore through it, and us, as if it was all a mere inconvenience." Amelia argued.

"You expect us to believe that three teenagers ripped through one of the strongest barriers available to us and then defeated two-and-a-half dozen Aurors? Really, Amelia, I have heard some rather disturbing rumors but this is hard to swallow," Spoke Lucius Malfoy.

"Believe what you want, Malfoy, but that is what happened. Don't ask me how it happened, but it did. You've seen the Atrium, the evidence speaks for itself," she shot back.

"Yes, and that is what disturbs me the most. Three teenagers are the cause of this. Two of which are the same ones that attacked the departing Hogwarts students," he replied solemnly.

"And that is only the icing on the cake. The report also has them aided by a Lycanthrope, one that was in complete control. Transforming at will, even reported as leaving in human form. Only the most monstrous of werewolves are capable of such a thing," spoke Augusta Longbottom.

"Yes and that leads us to the final piece of unbelievable news. Despite all things, you suffered not a single loss of life. Despite the presence of someone on the level of Greyback, and the now infamous disciples of Chang, not one Auror lost their life. Why?" added Malfoy.

"We are at a loss as to why, just as we are at a loss on why they were here in the first place. Their actions are hard to discern. So far, we have several theories, most of which are disturbing," Amelia replied.

"S-Such as?" Fudge asked nervously.

"Best case: they were bored and did this to test themselves," she replied.

"What makes you think that?" Longbottom asked confused.

"They seemed to make a game out of the battle, keeping track of how many they took down, using it to decide who the 'best' was. They might have just left us alive so that they might be able to _play _again at a later date." She replied carefully.

"And the worst case scenario?" Malfoy asked calmly after taking in the news.

"This was a declaration of war, and they left us alive in order to send a message." Amelia replied coldly.

"M-Message?" Fudge asked.

"That they are better than your best and that you only still draw breath due to their good graces," came a slightly Italian accented voice from the entrance. The instant reaction of every wizard and witch was of course to draw their wands and turn to face down the new figure as they walked into their midst, standing in the free space that made up the floor as the ruling body looked down on him from their boxes.

He was a tall figure with dark hair trimmed neatly and in complement to his olive skin complexion that was rather fetching for his young appearance. He would have likely been intimidating to any of them had he stood on the same floor with them. Part of it was due to his height. The other, larger, part would have been due to how he was dressed. Like many inhabitants of the wizarding world, he looked to have stepped out of a history book on the Middle Ages. But while most wizards and witches dressed in a manner reminiscent of either Merlin or a stately noble lord, this man looked to have taken up the role of the proud knight. Clad in a black breastplate and grieves with a sword sheathed at his side, he made for an interesting sight even amongst wizards.

"Who the hell are you?" Amelia growled as she directed her wand at the stranger.

"Please, I mean you no harm," he stated calmly as he held both hands up in a placating manner.

"I will be the judge of that. Now, I ask again: who are you? And while we're at it, what are you doing here?"

"My name is Caviliere Giovanni Guerriero, and I represent an Order that is here to offer your ministry a deal," the warrior spoke calmly to the assembled lords. However, his words were not well received within the mind of a certain minister. Standing abruptly and pointing an accusatory finger at the intruder, the (supposedly) most important man of the Ministry began his verbal assault.

"You! You're one of Chang's lot, aren't you? Here to demand my immediate surrender after your attack? Well, let me tell you boy, such a tactic will not-"

"You would dare lump me in with those _foreign invaders! _That you would throw such baseless accusations with next to no knowledge worries me, I hope you hold no true standing here for if you are any example of the sort of men my Order is offering their services to, then this fight shall be all the more harder for your sheer ignorance."

Fudge had looked to be building up quite the rant prior the interruption. But with Guerriero's words, the minister was rather abruptly cut off.

"Wh-What?" Fudge fumbled.

"You would dare to accuse me of being part of the mongrel horde that even now threatens these lands, and now you prove to be even more of a bumbler. Please silence yourself and let the Minister of Magic speak." The knight commanded.

Silence reigned throughout the assembly hall as Guerriero gazed at each of them in turn, judging them for some unknown quality, before finally laying his eyes upon Amelia.

"You. You bare the composure of a warrior. Tell me, where is your commander? I have need to speak with him on behalf of my Order." Guerriero addressed the head of the DMLE.

Amelia, along with just about every other person there couldn't help but stare incredulously at the man. He claimed to wish to speak to the Minister, yet on that very same note he had just snubbed the very man he wished to speak with. The only explanation she could come up with for such a gross misunderstanding was sheer ignorance. Yet before she could do anything to rectify the situation, Fudge once again opened his mouth.

"You would dare ask for me! You—You—You… Foreigner!" the portly minister blustered as he tried to come up with some sort of appropriate insult, only to use the very word that the younger man had used with such vehemence. It turned out that this was the exact wrong thing to say to the armored man.

"You would dare speak again, fool! If I was not currently seeking your commander, I would-" the knight seemed to have been building up some sort of challenge towards the minister, and likely would have challenged the portly wizard to an honor duel if the way he held himself was anything to go by. And as much as Amelia would've loved to see the incompetent man out of office, it wouldn't due to have the minister killed so soon after an attack like the Deadly Trio had made.

"I am afraid, good sir, that Fudge _is_ the man you have come to speak with, the Minister of Magic," Amelia explained calmly, giving pause to Guerriero's rant.

"… I apologize, Minister, I had not realized," the intruder said as he masterfully controlled his anger and brought it back to heel under an iron will.

"Yes, see that you do not make such a mistake again," Fudge said smugly as he sat back down. "Now I believe that you were here for something?" the minister questioned, satisfied that whoever this stranger represented, he had been cowed by Fudge's position. Just as he, and anyone else, should be.

"Once again, minister I apologize for my… lack of knowledge. You must truly be a great warrior to hide your combat presence to such a degree," the knight said as he turned towards the minister, a new regard alight in his eyes as he tried to gauge just how competent Fudge would be in combat. Guerriero was of course off put by the confused look he received in turn.

"What the devil are you talking about? What in Merlin's name is combat presence and why do you think I have it?" Fudge finally asked, utterly stumped on what this strange person was talking about.

"Sir, Guerriero is referring to the ingrained responses one has when exposed to the possibility of combat. A twitch of the hand towards the wand, eyes panning the room for advantages, these actions are present in anyone who has tasted true battle before. And a skilled combatant such as myself or Sir Guerriero can spot these little tells and react accordingly before a real fight even breaks out." Amelia explained calmly.

"Yes, quite. I'm surprised you do not know of such things, minister. Are you not the Commander-in-Chief of your forces?" Guerriero asked Fudge coolly, his head tilted in confusion.

"Well I…I…That is to say…" Fudge stumbled, once more unsure of how to approach the strange situation before him.

"I believe that there is a misunderstanding here," surprisingly it was not Amelia who spoke next in an attempt to salvage the situation. Rather, it was the icy confidence of the Malfoy patriarch that spoke out. "While Minister Fudge is the head of our state of affairs, he has delegated the role of defending our land in case of war to someone else, namely the woman you spoke to earlier."

"I see. I was told things outside the Order were run differently. I again apologize for any harm my misconceptions have done." Once more the warrior spoke in what could be considered an apologetic tone, if not for a thin hint of contempt that had seeped back into his voice as he once more addressed the Minister of Magic.

"Ah, ah, yes. Now back to the matter at hand. What do you want?" Fudge asked quickly.

"As I was trying to inform you, Minister, my Order has sent me here to act as emissary to broker a deal with your ministry. It concerns this recent invasion that has beset your lands."

"You speak of Chang and his disciples?" Madame Longbottom asked cautiously.

"Yes, he and his forces run wild in our sovereign lands. They have no right and thus we of Le Guardi'neri will stamp them out," he spoke calmly.

"And what precisely is 'Le Guardi'neri'?" Amelia asked as she continued to eye the knight.

"We are an old order, founded back when the muggles recognized the true sovereignty that ruled these lands. Back when Rome was our true recognized capital. We were founded to do one simple thing: protect the borders of our nation, and we intend to do so now," Guerriero said passionately.

"So, let me see if I understand this correctly. You are offering your orders services to us in order to combat the like of Change and his ilk?" Amelia asked to confirm that, yes, this really was happening the way she was interpreting it.

"Quite right, we will aid you in stomping out this threat, and ensuring that no further incursions of the like are made again."

"Well then, if you are truly willing to lend us your help, the as Minister I am more than happy to—"

"Not quite yet, minister," a smooth, aristocratic voice came, cutting the minister's acceptance off quite suddenly. "While his offer of aid does hold some merit, can we really trust him, both his offer to help against Chang and even in his order's ability to handle such a thing as this?"

"And who are you to doubt my offer of aid?" the armored knight's voice was cold as he bore into the new, hooded figure that stood amongst them.

"My name is of no importance, as I have joined the ranks of the Unspeakables. You may refer to me as The Philosopher. As I am the Head of my department, it is well within my rights to advise the Minister on how best to act after that deadly trio declared war upon us," the veil covered wizard answered, a slight inflection of amusement coloring his words as if laughing at some unknown joke. Sir Guerriero, of course, took offense to this unknown joke, assuming that he was in some way being made the fool.

"And just what would some wet behind the ears scroll-reading, glassy-eyed researcher like you know of war and battle, such that they might _advise_ on it?" he growled dangerously.

"Personally, quite a few things, but that was a lifetime ago. As of right now, however, there are a few concerns to point out about you and your offer. Like, for instance, how can we be sure we can trust you? After all, your allegiance is offered first to your Order, no true loyalty is offered to _our _land other than some vague notion towards a land that _was _and no longer _is._"

"You would dare question my loyalties to our land?!" the knight growled, he made no attempt to hide the anger caused by the mere question of his loyalties.

"I would. After all, you claim to hold the good of Europe at heart, but where were you and your Order during the rise of You-Know-Who, our last Dark Lord? Better yet, where were you during Grindelwald's reign of terror? Why should we trust you _now_ when you did nothing _then_?"

"The rise of Britannia's so-called Dark Lord Voldemort was an internal matter. My Order does not concern itself with the petty grievances of one of Rome's far-flung colonies. As for where we were during Grindelwald war, we were doing as we were meant, defending our borders from invaders." Guerriero answered proudly.

"Ah, so that's it then. You care not that our lands are in turmoil. Only that an attack comes from those who were not part of the Roman Empire during its height. If Chang had done as our last Dark Lord had done and used citizens of magical England, you wouldn't care, would you? You'd let us tough it out ourselves. Truly, how can we trust such fickle allies such as your order?" The Philosopher asked, sowing seeds of doubt within the ranks of the Wizengamot. Guerriero didn't want to admit it, but the researcher's words held more truth in them than he would ever admit to those in the room with him, and would likely poison the men and women present towards the aid his Order offered. Luckily for the knight, who had not expected such opposition from those he considered to be unblooded milk-drinkers, a helping hand presented itself in the form of Amelia Bones.

"So, what do you propose we do then? If you haven't noticed, we don't have many options. I, for one, won't risk my men to fight a battle we cannot win. If his lot is willing to do it in place of my boys, more power to them," the head of the DMLE argued. And while it was insulting for the knight to realize that the only reason she argued for his case was to use them as fodder, Guerriero could respect her loyalty towards her men. Unwilling to sacrifice even one of them, when some other fool was willing to make the sacrifice themselves, the knight and his order had similar sentiments towards the so-called Aurors.

"My option is actually seated several floors beneath us, sitting behind one of our most elaborate wards yet. A man who has already proven that he knows how to fight this Deadly Trio." the Unspeakable replied, smirk evident in his tone.

"You… You can't mean _him,_ can you?" Fudge asked suddenly.

"Yes, I speak of former Unspeakable Redsun."

333

**X-Northern Scotland, Hogwarts, Outside the Room of Requirements, 4:20 a.m.**

It was many hours after his most recent success that Draco finally ceased his training and began to make his way towards his dorm. Once more, the ache he felt in his limbs was a testament to his training and the latest breakthrough he had made. The hours he had spent experimenting with channeling his emotions along with his magic had yielded greater results that he had previously hoped.

Initially, he had merely been hoping to reproduce an explosion of the magnitude he had produced earlier. However, despite the ease with which he had first produced the blast, consciously focusing his emotions into his magic had added yet another level of complexity towards the process he had developed. So far though, it had proven to be far more beneficial than anything else. Already he had managed to reproduce the force present in his anger-fueled punch, and even managed to coax some other emotions into his attacks.

It was… not so much difficult, but different from anything he had ever tried. As far as he knew, there were very few emotion-based feats of spell craft, with the only ones he could name being the Patronous and a litany of Dark spells. However, he didn't get the feeling that using his emotions alongside his spell-channeled fists was quite the same as casting any of those spells.

While it was true that so far his most effective 'casting' had been while he was channeling anger, in that he'd caused the most damage. It was also true that since that moment he'd had an equally easy time using pride and even happiness. After his initial rage-fueled strike, it was just hard to muster up the anger needed to reproduce the feat. But he had then grown frustrated and angered by his inability of being able to repeat his initial feat, and was subsequently able to reproduce it. With such a testing chain of events, the Malfoy heir saw a slight flaw in his experiment. Thus, he had moved onto easier emotions to draw from. Pride in his newest success had come next, and in each blow he'd tried he grown more and more elated at his success. And so Draco had moved on to testing this elation alongside his spells.

It was as he used his third elation fueled _**Bombarda**__, _that he had finally noticed a difference in the attack itself. Somehow, in some way, the spell felt different depending on the emotion used. Anger felt hot and the spell… burned for lack of a better phrase. Yet his elation-fueled spell work lacked that feel, instead the spell coating his hands felt warm and soothing. Pride spells were, at best, neutral and evoked a sense of… well, pride. It was yet another mystery to this new path, and it was one that could be solved at a later date. As of right now, he was simply tired and more than anything he wanted to let his aching muscles rest.

Yet as he stepped from the hidden room, Draco could not help but shake the feeling that something was off within the seventh floor corridor. Some trace of his awareness tugged at his conscious mind, making him wary of his surroundings despite the fact that he could see nothing wrong before him. Yet it was as he took his third step down the hall that his senses _screamed _at him. Not knowing just what was happening, he at first ignored the sudden feeling. That changed when the spell bolt stuck him, sending him barreling forward and divesting him of his wand.

Rising from his fall and following the arc of his wand, Draco found himself staring down the hall, and at the visage of one Ronald Weasley. Draco was so surprised by the identity of his attacker that he had yet to realize that as he rose, his body had positioned itself into what any muggle born student would call a text book boxer's stance. Fists up and legs apart. It was something that had been ingrained into him by the tome left by Shiba: if you wanted to hit something, you first needed to learn how to stand. It fit well with what Draco knew of dueling and how proper footing could go a long way towards winning a duel. All of this was of course lost on Draco as he tried to reconcile the recent attack on his person with the figure at the other end of the hall.

"What the hell are you playing at, Weasley!?" Draco growled hotly at the red head.

"I knew you were up to something! I just knew it, and this proves it!" the redhead replied hotly, his wand still aimed at Draco.

Any other time Draco would have dismissed the words, especially as they were coming from the particular Gryffindor before him. Ron Weasley was not a well-regarded individual. Ever since their first year, when his unkind words had almost killed another student, the youngest male Weasley had been placed in the status of pariah. It hadn't helped his case any more so when he had refused to apologize to the traumatized Granger. Since that day, not a single person outside his siblings sought him out, and in the end that isolation had caused the young man to withdraw into himself. He rarely ever spoke, and he rarely ever did anything to stand out. Yet here he was, in the dead of night, pointing a wand at Draco.

Even more troubling was the ring of truth to the Gryffindor's words. Draco _was _up to something, something that he very dearly wanted to be kept secret. As of right now, Draco was disarmed and confronted by someone holding him at wand point. He could do nothing but stall for time and hope for an opportunity to get his hands back on his wand. Then maybe he could…

_Why do wizards need wands?_

"What are you talking out?" Draco asked, even as an idea started to form in the back of his mind.

"You weren't on the map! You just disappeared, and now you're back. I know you're up to something, so you might as well tell me what it is." Ron shot back.

"Map?" Draco asked curiously, hoping to draw things out just a little more as he focused inwards.

"That doesn't matter! Just tell me what you're up to, or else!" the Gryffindor shot back, even as he stepped forward

"Or else what? What could someone like you do?" Draco taunted as he too stepped forward, he needed to be closer if this was going to work.

"How'd you like to be found in front of the Great Hall naked?" Ron fired back, smiling ruefully as he finally got a reaction from Draco.

"You wouldn't dare!" Draco spat back. Yet even as anger began to seep into him, he didn't allow his focus to waver. Already he could feel his perceptions shift as the air came alive.

"Just try me, Malfoy. No one would care if someone took you down a peg. Now, tell me what you're up to! Are you working with Chang and his lot, or are you and Daddy trying to stage your own little revolt?" Draco could only goggle and nearly lost his hold on his magic at the sheer randomness of the accusation.

"What?"

"You heard me! Now, tell me what I want to know!" Ron growled even as he pulled his wand back.

Draco didn't know what the Weasley was about to cast at him, but in that moment he didn't quite care. The conversation had long since moved past productive and was currently in the stages of random accusations.

"_**Depulso**__," _Draco whispered as he felt the magic take shape, though this time it was different. Not only were his hands coated in the shell of banishment and further fueled by his anger at the redhead, but his feet too bore a similar shell. It was the method he planned to use to match the speed of those two Artists.

In those three seconds after he uttered the spell name, he pushed himself forward, throwing one of banishing shells coating his limbs at the ground beneath his feet, propelling himself forward at speeds the Weasley couldn't hope to track. In that instance, as he crossed the distance between them, Draco could make out the shock on the Gryffindor's face, right before his fist slammed into it.

This time it was Ron who was sent rocketing away by the force of Draco's blow. The Malfoy scion watched as his foe crashed onto the ground and rolled about. He couldn't help the smirk that crossed his face as Ron failed to rise once more. Already he had proven to be too much for the average wizard, all because the other boy thought him helpless without a wand. If this was what Hermit and Berserker felt whenever they fought against others, he could understand why they acted as they had. This feeling… It was intoxicating.

Yet, he couldn't help but feel that something was still off. It was almost like that feeling he'd had when he'd first stepped out of the room. Right before Ron had…

With no prior warnings, Draco ducked even as he turned towards this new sense of unease, he could feel the spell bolt fly by his head. There, at the other end of the hall, was yet another figure pointing a wand at him. This time, he couldn't quite make out just who they were as there was no light shining on them as it had been on Ron. But at this point he didn't really care. He was tired and cranky and he really felt like sharing his pain.

Just like before he loosed one of the shells coating his leg at the ground as he propelled himself at his newest attacker, his fist cocked back and spell primed so he could add more force to the punch that was about to meet their face. Yet whoever his mystery attacker was, they were far more prepared than Weasley had been, dropping down and under his blow and pointing their wand point blank at his chest.

"_**Stupefy!**__" _came the feminine shout of his attacker. Draco barely thought as the words left her mouth; all he did was react, magic still racing through his body he uttered the first spell that crossed his mind.

"_**Protego!**__" _He uttered as he felt the shell coat his hands and chest. He was quite surprised when the red bolt struck his chest, and instead of rendering him unconscious as it was supposed to, he was instead pushed back by the force behind the spell. This would be the first time he had ever coated anything but his limbs. And if this was any indication, it was a sound idea to do more experimentation like this.

Banishing the thought from his mind, he once more focused on his attacker. Taking in their identity as he finally got a close look at his latest attacker. Before he'd thought it was another Gryffindor, someone to back Weasley up if things went south. Yet the person before him was as likely to be in on Weasley's plan as Granger and he were likely to get along.

"Hello, Chang. Mind explaining why I deserved a spell to the back?" he growled out as he took in the older Ravenclaw.

"That method of fighting… Where did you learn it?" She ground out.

"Why should I tell you? After all, being attacked does very little towards earning my good will," he shot back as he steadied his stance.

"You don't know what kind of power you're messing with, Malfoy. Such power shouldn't be wielded by _anyone_." Chang replied coldly as she too steadied her footing.

"And you think it falls to you to decide that for me? What right do you have to decide what I do with my time?" he challenged, annoyed that the older girl would try and lecture him simply because he tried to take a step forward.

"You haven't seen what that sort of power does to a person, the way it destroys them, turning them into monsters." She growled.

"I'll take that risk. After all, _they_ were monsters when compared to us. Compared to anyone else in this entire school, those two were wonderfully, incomprehensibly, monstrously strong!" Draco said, admiration clear in his voice.

"You're just like them, just like _him. _Are you going to trade everything just for power?" Cho huffed as she kept her wand pointed at Draco.

"I'm not sure if I should feel complimented or insulted. After all, isn't _he_ your uncle?" Draco taunted, he wasn't surprised when the spells started flying his way again. He was surprised that instead of spell words, Chang was instead repeating a simple mantra to herself. _"Notlikehim!Notlikehim!Notlikehim!" _Endlessly, she repeated the mantra as more and more spell fire was hurled towards him.

Wordlessly, he closed in on her, using the _protégo _to emulate Berserker's casual disregard for spell fire. Yet with each spell, he deflected he could feel his magic slipping away. He was already tired from training earlier, and this only taxed him further. His breathing was ragged and his muscles _screamed _to simply stop and fall down, to stop, to rest. Surely, he could stop…and let the girl before him win this exchange? She was already a pariah, same as Weasley. So who would believe her words about him? He could just stop and rest.

He could let himself be defeated.

_'No! I refuse to lose here! I already decided I will walk the path of an Artist. I will surpass them. This step, this is my first real step. If I can win this, I'm on the right path!' _Malfoy thought hotly as he moved towards the berserk Ravenclaw, step by tedious step he approached. It could have very well been hours by his perception of how long it took to finally stand before the Asian teen with his fist cocked back, yet he knew it had to have actually been mere seconds. He was so very tired that it was all he could do to drop the shield he'd been holding over himself and change the shell over his hands. And even then he knew that if he was even a millisecond slower, she would have him dead to rights, and this time there would be no last-minute shield charms.

"_**Stupefy**__!" _Draco shouted with every fiber of his being. Even as Chang began the same incantation, his fist was already lashing out to strike her in the chest, no mistakes this time. The head would hurt more, but it was far easier to strike center mass, and just like that Draco's fist buried itself within the sternum of the older girl, releasing the pent up magic and sending the girl to Morpheus' embrace. And even as she slumped towards the ground, Draco found himself in similar straights as he collapsed under his own weight,

"…I…won," he whispered as he lay next to his unconscious foe, barely hanging onto his own waking mind, if not for the pride filling his chest.

"He was right… Shiba, that crazy bastard was right," he laughed as the implications of such a thing entered his mind. The very notion that he could surpass every standard society had set up to measure what was mystically powerful didn't even cross his mind. All he could think about was that he was closer, just one step closer to those two giants. "Just you wait, Hermit, Berserker. You might not know who I am, but one day I will stand on your level and I will prove to you just how worthy I am of the title of Artist. I swear it!" he smirked, as he picked himself up of the floor, he couldn't help but wonder. What were those titans doing now?

333

**X- London, The Bomb Shelter, 5:00 a.m.**

"Dodge!" Harry shouted desperately to his two companions, even as the humanoid hurricane bore down upon them. While it was true, at first, that when told he'd be sparring with Song at 10 % of the Master's full capabilities, he'd thought death would be a far easier and quicker punishment. This was of course due in part to the aura of sheer menace that Harry's own master was pumping out to cow his disciple into compliancy.

Yet it was as he, Dudley and Ashley prepared to rest, and that he'd fully come to understand what had been asked of him that he allowed a bit of curiosity to enter his system. Just how would he stack up against a Master-class fighter? A man who had spent over sixty years of dedicated training, honing his art to the very peak of perfection, and finding perfection wanting. Song Si was going to test their skills in battle, and he couldn't help but feel excited.

Now though, well, now he was back at the point where he thought death would be quicker and kinder.

Song had given them no warning, merely sending the three teens flying with his mere presence as a way to wake them up. From there, it was up to the teens to either dodge the juggernaut's attacks or…

"Oomph!" Dudley gasped out as Songs fist buried itself in his chest, sending the bulkier teen flying, crashing bodily into the wall. Ashley, whether in an act of bravery or stupidity, charged the older man, seeking to use the opening he'd left from attacking his student. Yet at the speeds she moved, compared to those Song was used to dealing with, the lycanthrope might as well have been standing still. His counter was quick and causal as he brought his left hand towards her face, even as he turned towards Harry.

Harry could only wince in sympathy as the smack connected with the charging girl, sending her to a fate much like Dudley's. Yet he didn't have much time to spare towards his fellow fighters, right now it looked to be his turn, and if he wished to last longer than either of them he'd need to play it smart.

Moving forward he prepared launched a series of punches that should buy him some form of time to search for an opening. And while academically he knew that such speeds or strength would mean nothing compared to Song, he'd hoped that the older man would play along if only to help Harry improve. This was supposed to be training. The foot, breaking through his guard and planting itself in his sternum, told him otherwise.

"Slow. You three are all _way_ too damn _slow!_" Song shouted as Harry was sent careening back.

"Shut up!" snarled Ashley as she recovered, only to once more be slammed back down as Song reappeared before her, fist buried in her gut.

"Little pussies shouldn't mewl helplessly. If ya got the breath ta shout, ya got the breath ta attack. Now, shut up an' fight!" Song roared even as he began to mercilessly beat Ashley black and blue, only stopping to duck under the pair of energy attacks aimed at his back. The green and dark orange bolts of energy instead plowed mercilessly into the ally of the two teens who had fired the projectiles. This of course knocked the already beaten and battered were-lion out and drew Song's attention towards Harry and Dudley, both still standing with their arms outstretched.

"Energy blots are good'n all when ya don't wanna get close ta someone. But just plain stupid when yer opponent is tradin' blows with yer allies." Song said from behind them. Harry and Dudley didn't even bother to properly respond, nor did they blink as Song was suddenly behind them. If they could pull the trick off on the inexperienced, then it stands to reason that a master would be faster than a disciple. All they could really do in that moment was dive forward, away from the much stronger fighter. Of course with the amount of force Song put behind his arms as they headed towards the two young teens, they might as well have tried to block. The shockwaves alone sent the pair of them sprawling. Despite this, it only took them an instant to roll back onto their feet and charge towards the much stronger man. Despite the beating they would take, it was still preferable to being taken down so easily. Their pride as fighters wouldn't allow them to do anything else as they attacked.

Even as Harry and Dudley tried in vain to land more than a glancing blow on Song, Li was in the upper areas preparing a meal of rice, pickled leeks, and a few strips of beef. Of course if anyone else had gazed upon the meal they would have questioned his definition of 'few'. But then again, Adepts tended to have a metabolic rate that would have put anyone else to shame. Yet even as he moved about the kitchen, Li found his thoughts drawn to the news Harry, Dudley, and their newest addition Ashley had brought back to him.

They say that hindsight is always 20/20, and in this moment Li had yet another regret of his own making to be haunted by. He had hoped that things had changed enough that even with the chaos that a Convergence would cause that the mages had straightened up. That those who had branded him a dark mage would have lost influence, that such a clear threat as Redsun would be persecuted to the full extent of the law. Yet it would seem that they were far more afraid of him and the perceived threat he represented than they were of Redsun.

To make matters worse, there was the fight Harry and his friends had gotten into when they left. Even if it had been in self-defense, it would still be perceived as an act of aggression, meaning they would find some way to retaliate. Retaliation meant battle, battle meant escalation, escalation that would lead to war, and war would lead to the Satsujin Ken. A path that Li, Song, or any other of the masters in the city never wanted to walk ever again.

Contrary to what they had told many of the disciple-level Adepts within London, the paths of life and death were very interchangeable. Katsujin Ken was about helping people, and like a very wise man once told Li, there were many ways to help people. Sometimes the ways to help were easy, stand up for them, protect them from harm, get medicine for the sick, or even teaching them to defend themselves. Other times, well, other times the ways to help them meant getting rid of dangerous people. And oftentimes to get rid of dangerous people, you needed to do it in a permanent manner. In today's society, there were prisons for such a thing. However in the past that had not always been the case. World War II had taught him such, as had the war against Voldemort. In those cases, the best way to help people was to kill, and kill, and kill yet more men. And he had no wish to expose his disciple or anyone else to the horrors of war. And the best way to do that had been to shield the Convergence from those who would cause the disciples harm, both physically and spiritually.

Before it had anonymity that had protected them, those that would bring bloodshed hadn't known they existed, and so bloodshed would not come. The mages who had branded him a monster had oddly enough mimicked their mundane counterparts in wanting to believe that the rumors of super humans to be just those, rumors. Harry and Dudley had somehow or another screwed this up for both the mundane and the magical side of things. And while it might have been luck on both the first and the second occasion, this third time was another matter entirely.

More and more, it would seem the shield of anonymity was doomed to disappear. Without a backup protection, it was almost doubtless that the disciples would be forced to walk the fine line between taking life to protect themselves and others, and taking life because they could. And while he didn't doubt that Harry and Dudley would make the right choices, there were so many others within the Convergence. More than even the population of Shangri-La, and most of them were but mere children; children who were prone to fits of anger and spite, to bouts of envy and pride, and to desires for status. The Masters had managed to impress upon everyone a code of conduct, but how long before the children decided to test their restraints? How long would it be before a pair of rivals escalated their fight into a full-fledged battle? And how long would it be before their choices were taken from them, how long would it take this Tom Riddle to mobilize the mages, armed with Redsun's ritual?

The only thing they could do was change the rules of the Convergence. And so Li and Song had presented matters to the other Masters. It had been an uphill struggle, as many of the Masters were older than even Li and Song and thus more set in their ways, but in the end they had managed to convince them of the seriousness of their claims. The London Melee had only been further proof of their claims, and so they had begun what would likely change the Convergence entirely. The construction of an arena, a place where fights could be scheduled in a safe environment and lessons could be imparted to all. In two weeks, the arena would be complete and they could start bringing in the Adepts.

Li only hoped that the current situation would hold until then.

333

**X-London, Home of David, 5:30 a.m.**

It had taken awhile for the young fighter known as David Kerry to return to his home. Not because he had been held up by yet more fights, but simply because he had utilized a very mundane method of travel, forgoing the rooftops and opting to simply walk along the ground. His mind consumed with thoughts, about himself, about the Convergence, about Xianghua Si, and about _him_. Xianghua Si was yet another person that had utterly outclassed him. And why shouldn't she? Her father was Master Thor, teacher of Berserker, one of the big names. She had likely been taught since she was capable of walking. He, on the other hand, had only been at this for maybe half a year. Still, it hurt to have yet another person so easily dismantle him regardless of all his efforts the way she had, the way Hermit and Berserker had. Almost like…

"Boy, what the hell are you doing getting back so late!" his father's drunken growl informed David he was already home. David could smell the alcohol on his father's breath, and knew that anything to do with his father right now would only result in an argument.

"I was out," David replied, knowing it was best to keep things short.

"Where? Helping some of those punks? Well, let me have it," his father shot back at him.

"Have what?" David knew he should have just shouldered past his father and headed up to his room, but there was still a part of him that was genuinely confused at this most recent turn of events.

"Rent," his father spat back, his tone flat and the implication of David's mental faculties clear.

"I'm sixteen, Dad."

"Don't you give me that lip, boy! I damn well know how old you are, now pay up!" his father hissed as he stepped towards him. A year ago, David would have backed off. A year ago, he was skinny and weak. Now however was a different story.

"Why should I? We both know you're just going to use it to get more booze!" David snapped, taking a step forward, bringing him face to face with his father. He ignored the scent of intoxication as he continued to glare back into the older man's eyes. However instead of backing off, his father merely chuckled, as if his alcohol-impaired mind saw something funny about the situation

"Oh, so think you're tough, huh? Well, let me tell you something, you little shit. You have no idea what I put up with to raise you, and keep a roof over your head! So, if I want to get a little drunk, then I damn well have that right! Now, give me the fucking money. I know you have some. You had it written down that you'd be helping those others punks, and you always have money after you help them." His father growled as he shoved David back.

"How do you know that? How do you know any of that!?" David growled back.

"Don't play stupid with me, boy. I know you're dumb, but don't think I am. I saw it, that fancy new phone of yours you bought last month and that new computer the month before that. So I took a little peak to see when the next time you'd be out would be so that you could contribute for once instead of being a selfish little shit." His father spat with such venom that David nearly fell back to old habits, yet he couldn't not with this.

"That was written on my computer, my password protected computer! You had no right to do that!" David shouted.

"This is my goddamn house, boy! And I will do what I please! Now, _give—me—the money!_" His father's uncaring words bit into David with pain the teen should have expected.

Quickly brushing past his father, David made his way inside, unwilling to listen to more of his father's words. He knew where things would escalate towards if he simply stayed and argued. Already he could feel his desire to lash out, to crush his father's throat between his hands. To prove just how insignificant a bully the old drunk really was.

"Don't you walk away from me!" his father screamed after him. But he didn't care; he needed to get away, before he broke the rules. Quickly, he ascended the stairs and closed the door, hoping to just sit down and cry. To let it out, away from that man he'd been cursed to live with.

"I said don't you walk away from me!" his father's voice roared as he burst into David's room, cracking the door frame as he chased after his son. "You think you can do what you want in my house! With no regard for anyone but yourself you selfish little shit! That's not how things work boy, not in this world!" The drunk growled as he pushed David again.

"And what are you going to do, hit me?!" David shouted back, knowing that his father wouldn't. It was unconscious by this point, but David's father knew that he shouldn't dare raise a hand against his son. The way David had moved had changed, sparking something deep within that told him his son was more dangerous than he was. To hit his son so would be akin to attacking a larger predator. But alcohol has a way of dulling even the most basic of survival instincts.

"You think you can just ignore me! Well guess what stupid, actions have consequences!" the drunk snapped as he turned and smashed his hand through one of the few things David owned, his computer.

"What are you doing?" David shouted as his dad moved forward, trashing yet more of David's things, knowing that David would do nothing. Because his useless boy was nothing but a worthless little worm, he had the power here and he would teach the little shit to remember that!

David for his part could only watch as his father trashed his room. Knowing that if he did anything other than sit there, it would lead to him punching his father with no restraints on his strength. A punch like that would do more than just stop him, he'd kill the old bastard, and part of him couldn't see anything wrong with that. But he knew, _knew_ that he would regret such a thing.

"You will learn to mind my rules and pay your fair share from now on! Next time you get money for helping those dumbass punks wipe their asses, you will give that money to me! Understand!" The drunk roared as he finished his cruel work and turned once more to his son.

"…" David whispered as tears began streaming down his eyes.

"I said do you understand!" the man roared once more, stepping forward threateningly, even as some part of his clouded mind told him to stop.

"I said I understand." David finally said weakly, fifteen years of conditioning finally rearing its ugly head, telling him he was weak, stupid, and worthless, that he should listen to the man before him before the pain could really start. Before he did to David what he'd done to his possessions.

"Good, now clean up this mess!" the drunk spat as he turned and left, never realizing that he'd once more tempted death whilst dealing with his son.

"Fuck!" David sobbed as he sensed his father enter the kitchen. He had let it happen, _again_. Once more his father had trample all over him and acted as he had for the last ten years, ever since David had turned six, his father had gotten worse and worse, and David was his favorite punching bag.

"And once more you let him treat you in such a way?" a familiar voice sounded from the window, breaking David from his self-pity.

"Shut up, he's my dad," David replied as he quickly tried to dry his tears. He wasn't startled by the presence. He'd known he'd been near, and had likely heard the whole thing. After all, this _had_ happened before.

"He is a very poor one if that. Tell me, aren't fathers supposed to protect their children, not torment them? That man is nothing but a bully and a coward, and you let him treat you as such. With your abilities, you could snap him like a twig. Instead, you let him walk all over you. Is this truly the path of Katsujin ken, to sit there and take abuse while you could fight back?" The teen…young man…David honestly couldn't tell much about the other fighter. Just that he seemed to be older… and that he cared.

"So, what do you think I should do?" David asked quietly.

"Show him what _real_ power is. Not the acts of a child lashing out as he seems want to do. Show that fool that he is nothing before you, and that it is only through your own good graces that he still draws breath." The other fighter replied, a vicious yet melodic lilt added to his voice as he causally talked about violence.

"But Master Wu-" David tried to argue, only for the other Adept to raise a very… _interesting _point.

"Ah, yes, your esteemed Master Wu. Tell me, do you know where your good master lives? Well, let me tell you. He lives in a warehouse that has been taken over by several Adepts and turned into a town house of sorts. They have plenty of room there, so why has he not invited you to live with him?"

"He doesn't know. I haven't—"

"Haven't told him that your father is a drunken waste of human flesh? But how can he not know? He is after all a Master, one of the most perceptive and powerful of our kind. After all, he was able to tell that you were one of the lucky few, a natural well of Ki and potential. That _was_ why he took you as a disciple, wasn't it? So then, why has he left you here?" he asked caustically.

"He doesn't know!" David replied harsher than he meant.

"Ah, but are you so sure of that? Maybe he does know and just doesn't care enough to do anything."

"You don't know that! You're wrong!" David shouted again.

"Perhaps, but tell me David, what if I'm right?"

David honestly didn't know how to answer that.

333

**X- London, unknown, 6:21 a.m.**

'_The modern world is really such a wondrous place,'_ the ghost thought to itself as it watched one of the marvelous commons of the age. Television, such a wondrous and yet common thing.

Back when he had been alive, he had merely played with the idea of using the magic behind moving portraits to tell a story the way that the mundane humans now used television. But he'd been forced to use his abilities for other, more serious things. And here the mundanes had gone and accomplished it, all with their science and not a lick of otherworldly power.

Arty would have loved that.

'_Now is not the time, old boy. Focus on the people of today.' _He shook his head as his thoughts and memories threatened to send his perceptions back to then, the curse and blessing of a perfect memory.

"Once again, this is the latest attempt to clear up the images of the unbelievable fight that took place here in London over a week ago," the man in the box said as the images played out before him. The ghost had to admit that the fighters certainly were fast, faster than any of his friends had been true. But martial skill alone was just but part of the requirement to wield her. He would need to see them personally, to test their character, their convictions, and their hearts. Only then would he let one of them even _try_ to pull her from her resting place.

But first he needed to find them. Yes, those two would do nicely to start with. The Hermit and Berserker were at the top of his priorities... Well, right after he figured out what 'porn' was anyways.


End file.
